Gamble Of The Gods
by restive nature
Summary: Crossover between Edding's Belgariad and Lord of the Rings. In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

A/N- This might seem like a blatant Mary-Sue, but for those familiar with Edding's books, it won't be. Beldarans complete background will unfold slowly over the course of the story. This story was simply an effort on my part to see if I could write in a "high style". It's not all that polished, but I would still be interested to know what people think of it.

Chapter One

The young redheaded girl slipped into the solitary figure's chamber. Her green eyes sparkled as she pulled herself up to her impressive five foot, five inch stature. Well, it was impressive in her family. Her own mother didn't even top five feet. She held her breath as she waited for her friend to notice her arrival. He was much older than she was, but there was a boyish, innocent air about him. The girl watched him watching something unfold in his pool. She quickly amended that thought. After many years of having it explained to her, she knew that the water was more in the nature of a mirror, or window to various things. But every once in a while, she played dumb just to see how long it would take before her friend threw his hands up in despair. And the best part was that she knew he knew what she was doing and let her get away with it. Just because he loved her so much.

Well, everyone, actually. Not that everyone loved her. No, her tall, sweetly handsome friend loved everyone else. Whether he knew them or not. It was a gift, his destiny to love. Finally, the girl broke out of her reverie to see that without looking up from the pool, her friend had stretched out his hand. He beckoned her to join him and she slipped easily to his side. She grinned up at his serious countenance.

"What are we watching?" she asked in her light tinkling voice. Anyone that knew her could tell immediately when she was in a good mood by her voice. When she was happy, it sounded like the rush of a brook playing melody over the rocks it slowly shaped. When she was angry, her voice grew shrill. And the older she got, the more she sounded like her mother. Not that that was a bad thing, as the girl loved her mother very much. But, oh, when she was hurting. That sound tore the heart more than the shrill screams ever could. The girl peered down at the water as she waited for the answer she knew was forthcoming. It didn't matter how long it took. She knew her friend would answer when he was good and ready.

"Hello little one," he greeted. He glanced up quickly at her, then back at the pool. She could see that things were moving rapidly and caught only hints of what was going on. It seemed as if a bunch of little people were having a party. So she waited still for an answer. Over the years, she'd learned to temper her impatience by contact with more even-tempered people than flighty ones. Of course, her mother could be the flightiest the girl knew and that was saying a lot. But finally, he mumbled, "'tis middle earth."

"One of ours?" the girl asked.

"In contention at the moment," he grunted. The girl nodded, understanding perfectly the point he was making. She took a deep breath and focused her attention solely on the events before her. One of the little people climbed on a barrel and proceeded to make a speech, to which great cheers resounded. And eventually tapered off. The girl could see the little man fiddling with something behind his back. Her friend gestured quickly to another part of the pool. The girl saw that he had indicated the old, gray man, smoking furiously on his pipe, that more than they were aware of the little man's nervousness.

The girl gave a gasp as the little man suddenly disappeared. She peered harder and realized that she could make out a faint line. She followed it and was rewarded to see the line reappear as the little man, now inside some sort of home. She glanced up at her companion. "That was not good, was it?"

"No," he murmured sadly, shaking his head. "It wasn't." The girl simply nodded and turned back to the pool, careful not to disturb the water. They watched as the old gray man confronted the little one. A younger person appeared after the one called Bilbo departed. The girl frowned, as events seemed to speed up until they were blurring past them. She gasped when she saw nine riders in black burst forth from behind a large gate. They radiated evil and the stench of it even rose through the mirror. Both the man and girl curled their lips back in distaste of it.

The motion slowed as they continued to watch. The girl was slightly dizzy from the frenzy, but her friend was not affected. Soon, they were back to the little one, a hobbit; she'd managed to pick up. They watched as the gray man panicked in Frodo's home, his distress radiating to Frodo. The girl finally caught the gray one's name, Gandalf. Soon enough, Frodo and his companion seemed set on the same course as Bilbo had previously. Gandalf went with them briefly, to set them on the course before he turned his attention elsewhere. Curious, the girl watched Gandalf race towards a large, black tower. Normally she liked towers, as they brought a pervading sense of the loved ones she had that dwelled in them. But this tower left her with a cold, empty, roiling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

A tall man in white robes made his way down the steps as Gandalf greeted him. They walked momentarily, and then retired to the tower. They both heard the wizards discuss the object that Frodo carried, although Gandalf gave no name to the other. When the girl however heard the white robe, Saruman derisively tell Gandalf that he was too late, she gasped. She glared up at her friend accusingly.

"Is that true?" she demanded. "Is it too late?" To her surprise, her easygoing friend blushed slightly.

"Yes," he sighed. "Yes it is."

"How come?" she ground her teeth together. She was a determined young lady, and right now she wanted to understand.

"Look little one," the man tilted his head and graced her with his charming smile. "I do have other things to attend to."

"Couldn't you multi-task?" the girl grinned. Her companion was startled for a moment, then recalled what she was referring to.

"Remind me to never send you to that world again," he grimaced slightly. "They definitely had a bad influence on you."

"I like that place," she giggled. "So many conveniences, and a law that states women must be treated equally. Well, at least in most places."

"But you did notice that for all those modern miracles, the people were still as vicious, if not more, than the other worlds?" he quietly stated question caught at her. She simply nodded both of them seeing the truth of the matter.

The girl finally turned her attention back to the water, seeing now, that two more little ones had joined Frodo. "So how are we going to handle this? Do we just leave them alone?" Her companion rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

"I suppose I could send you as you are now," he muttered. The girl shook her head in surprise.

"Is that wise?" she was slightly suspicious. She hadn't known that he could do that.

"Perhaps not, but the evil that has been steadily rising in this world is too great to ignore," her tall friend grimaced. He looked back to her, considering his options. "If I do send you, you will be exactly as you are now." He warned again. The girl nodded, not taking in the full impact of his words. He would have said more, but the battling wizards caught his attention. He muttered under his breath, knowing that it would not end well. They were silent as the Hobbits came into view again, trying to flee some of the evil black riders. The girl cheered them on softly, empathizing with them completely. In her own life, she'd been in their shoes, although from what she could see, they didn't seem to be wearing any. The pair was both minorly relieved when they made it to a small village. There more bad luck seemed to stalk them and the object that they tried so hard to reveal was let loose again. The man noticed with wry amusement that his young friend's eye was caught by the man that roughly yanked Frodo away from the scene the Hobbit had created.

"Caught you, hasn't he?" the man teased. The girl shot him a frustrated look. Men were still a slightly taboo subject for her, at least around her parents they were.

"He's handsome, I suppose," she muttered. "But there's something else about him." She paused; gazing thoughtfully at the scene of the little Hobbits coming to their friends supposed rescue. "Who is he?"

"That, my dear, is Strider."

The girl sighed. "That tells me nothing. What is he?"

"He is a Man," the tall man grinned down at her. "A Ranger of this world." The girl glanced up at him, her green eyes snapping, warning him silently to stop toying with her. "He is Aragorn."

"He is important, then?"

"Very." They were silent again as they watched the trap the black riders fell for and the Hobbits and Ranger escape into the wild.

"Well, if I'm going to go, what will I need to do?" the girl asked.

"Just be you," the man quipped. He grinned widely as the redhead gave him a light shove in the shoulder. "No, little one, I am serious. You're fighting skills will be called upon, to be sure. But more than anything, these people will need your unfailing sense of purpose. The burden they carry is an onerous one."

"Chaos," she whispered. She shuddered slightly and her friend wrapped a protective arm around her slight frame.

"Indeed," he agreed. "You will help them fight the chaos overwhelming their souls." He waited barely a heartbeat before asking, "will you go?"

The tiny girl stared down a moment at the mirror as the black riders finally caught up with the Hobbits at a broken, crumbling tower. She could feel the terror emanating off them. Her decision was made for her. She didn't need to think this through. All she knew was that it was not in her nature to stand by idly while others suffered. "I'll go."

Before the man could reply, they were shocked to see one of the black riders stab young Frodo in the shoulder. They both tensed and let out sighs of relief as Strider reappeared and drove the riders off. "Go now," the man growled. "Prepare at once." The girl nodded sharply, dared a peck on her friend's cheek and then raced from the chamber. The young man never turned his head from the pool. If anything, he got as close as he could. He blew softly on the water's surface. "Quickly, quickly," he muttered.

In the surface of the pool, he could see Strider reaching out with his senses and knew the Ranger could feel what the young man was conveying to him. He grabbed up the Hobbit and they began their race to Rivendell. The young man's eyes flickered to another part of the pool and he was glad to see that a young maiden atop a beautiful white horse had caught the premonition as well. She spurred her horse forward, knowing only that she had to find her quarry with all speed. The young man smiled softly as the young maiden found Strider. He knew that this one, being an Elf, would be better prepared to help the young Hobbit. His faith in her was rewarded as she selflessly took it upon herself to race ahead of the riders, Frodo in her arms.

The young man relaxed a little, watching the dark ride. Occasionally, his breath would blow across the water, lending his aide as the she-Elf's horse faltered or tired. And always, with renewed vigor, the horse carried on, until they finally reached the river that was border to the Elf's people. She crossed purposefully, then turned back to confront the black riders. There was a moment and then the young man heard what he was waiting for. The She-Elf called upon the power of her people, asking the water of their river to defend her. The young man idly flicked the water and grinned in amusement as the water drew back in the river where the black riders were.

The river reared back and then came at the evil incarnate riders with a vengeance. The man felt a familiar presence in the head of the water and his grin was wider as he saw the formation of the white cap horses. The black riders were swept under the assault. But the grin faded as he watched the She-Elf lower the fading Hobbit to the ground. She sent up another prayer that was answered before young Elf even finished.

The young man settled his hands quickly on the surface of the water as he whispered to the crying She-Elf. "Fly little one. All speed now. I will carry you." The She-Elf nodded. She was so attuned to nature and the things she heard, that she did not question another voice now. She gathered Frodo and climbed on her horse again. The young man kept his hands on the water for her entire trip. Finally, the pair reached the Elven home of Rivendell. The She-Elf raced with her precious burden, refusing to allow anyone else to relieve her. Her father was waiting for her. With determination, the Elven ruler laid his hands on the Hobbit. The young man responded immediately, thrusting his hands deeply into the water.

He heard the chamber door open and shut rapidly and his young friend appeared at his side. The young man waited a moment to be sure then carefully withdrew his hands from the pool. Frodo would live. The girl glanced into the pool, a small gasp escaping from her as she took in the scene.

"He is marked," the man muttered. "If you are to go, it must be now." The girl nodded. The young man gave her a winning smile. "But before that, I have something for you." He moved to another room and swiftly returned, carrying a large package. The girl held her breath, almost recognizing the package her friend carried. He stopped before her and held it out to her. Her hand hovered over it, not quite able to bring herself to touch such an important piece of her history.

"Is it…?" She glanced up at him, unable to ask.

"It is," he nodded. "Go ahead, take it." A brilliant smile was across her face, only to be replaced by a serious frown.

"But won't it…?" she grimaced and waved her little hands around for a moment, unable to convey what she was afraid might happen. The young man rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"No, it won't," he assured her. "After all, you are your father's daughter." He paused for a moment, unable to resist teasing her. "Or maybe I should be worried. We all know how he turned out, after all." The girl chuckled as well. With a beatific smile, she took the package and unwrapped the gift from the blanket it had been bound in.

"Hello, old friend," she whispered, then reverently strapped the sword to her back. She turned back to the pool for a moment as her friend began to open the portal he so rarely used. She swept a hand towards the water, knowing better than to touch it. But she did allow her senses to reach out as people of all races began to gather. She knew that they would feel her, would respond well to her if she took this little step. "Oh, how they need me," she smiled sadly.

The young man glanced back at his dear friend and smiled sadly as well. There was more going on there than he could tell her. But he hoped she would figure it out and not fight his will, as some were wont to do. "Not as much as I hope you will need him, and he you," he murmured, too low for the girl to hear. Hearing the crackle of energy that the portal gave off, the girl turned to him.

"I'm ready," she grinned, her excitement of the new adventure at her feet catching her up. The young man reached out his hand and she eagerly took it. He hugged her gently, and while in his embrace, he pressed a soft kiss to her brow. She was not surprised by the small cackle of energy that flowed into her mind. They had done this often enough before to know that he was implanting certain knowledge in her mind, for later use. He drew back when done.

"Remember," he warned, allowing his voice to sweep over to the pool as well, " give the message to Elrond." The girl nodded and with a deep breath, she jumped.


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Two

Elrond stood at the head of the circle of chairs in his well-used council chamber. It was open air as elves preferred, but the company was of an entirely different caliber. He straightened his shoulders, the mantle of leadership folding about him familiarly. "Strangers from distant lands!" He began, eyeing them all carefully. "Friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the threat of Mordor," he hissed the name, an anathema to him. "Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this one fate, this one doom." He turned to the young Hobbit sitting next to Gandalf. "Bring forth the ring Frodo." The halfling looked around nervously, swallowing through a dry throat. He squirmed for a moment in his seat, then leaned forward. He stood slowly and tried not to notice the curious looks coming his way.

Elrond waited patiently, but was caught off guard when he heard the wind roar his name. True to his Elven nature, his face betrayed nothing. But he knew the call of the Gods when he heard it. Usually, it was a whispered warning, but this forceful demand struck the center of his being. He knew immediately that something momentous was to come.

Just as Frodo took his first step towards the pedestal, a large rumble burst through the sky. He glanced up, startled, as many others did. It was unexpected. It sounded like a storm beginning, but there was nothing but bits of white, wispy clouds floating along the breeze lazily. Large hands grasped his shoulder as a bolt of pure blue lightning struck at the flagged stone floor on the far side of the pedestal. All of the people present scrambled back wards from their seats, some swearing under their breath, others looking for the new threat upon them. Frodo was shoved behind Gandalf, the one who had pulled him out of harms way. He peered around anxiously. Another loud booming was heard and the group looked to the sky. The blue lightning spun and crackled in a large hazy ball of energy and after a moment began to contract. The wind picked up for a moment and then died completely.

Before the assembled throng could take a breath to begin their verbal wonderment of the phenomenon, they saw a figure hurtling through the sky at them. Weapons were drawn immediately as the figure landed beside the pedestal in the exact spot where the lightening had struck down. Strider, the Ranger went immediately to the figure huddled on the floor. He saw immediately that the figure was still, but alive. He glanced up to see one of the elves, a familiar face, looking down upon the figure as well. Trusting his friend to guard him, Strider sheathed his sword and turned the figure over. A collective gasp went up as the group realized that they had been prepared to attack a child. And a girl child at that.

Legolas, the Elf, took in the beautiful perfection that was before him. Rarely had he seen such beauty in the world of Man. To his Elven sensibilities, that race seemed to be built for sturdy, rugged purposes and their looks went accordingly with their nature. But the child before him, dressed much like his Ranger friend was beautiful in a way very foreign to him. Her tiny face held perfect features and was framed by an abundance of fiery red hair. Such hair that was so rare that even in all his years, Legolas had only heard about it. As Strider ran his hands over the girls head, checking for injury, Legolas was amazed to see her eyes snap open. Green eyes, like the shade of the trees he loved so dearly, were staring at him, clear and coherent. He gasped slightly as his soul sang out for her, recognizing her when his head did not.

She held his gaze for a moment, then turned her head to look at the man who was cradling her. Strider looked back and was stunned as a jolt of recognition trilled through him. He cast his mind to recall when he had met her before, but could not clearly remember. He looked up to his friend, to see the same wonderment on the Elf's face. He promised himself that he would discuss this another time with the Elf and turned his attention back to the current matter at hand. "Are you well?" he asked softly. He was glad to see that she nodded.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," she informed him. "Could you please help me stand?" Strider shifted back, not questioning her words. He knew that it was for more learned fellows to discern her purpose.

"Of course, my lady," he acquiesced. He shifted so that he was kneeling on one knee, the other ready to rise. He held out one hand that she gripped easily. Another hand was held out and Strider glanced up to see that Legolas had sheathed his daggers and was ready to help the girl as well. The girl smiled gently up at his Elven friend and took his hand as well. She rose gracefully to her feet, although a little unsteady. Legolas brought his other hand to the girl's shoulder to steady her. Strider grimaced, recognizing the look in the others eye as Legolas beheld the girl. She was tiny, fragile looking, and if he read her right, very apprehensive about the situation. Enough to make his friend jump in with both feet. Purposefully, he turned to the lord of Rivendell.

"Lord Elrond," he called. The girl knew immediately whom the Ranger was addressing. The tall, dark headed man behind the two Elven warriors that were set before him as bodyguards. Elrond made a small motion and the two Elf warriors stepped aside obediently. Elrond stepped forward and looked down at the girl who had so invaded his home. She drew herself up regally and bowed her head in a strangely familiar gesture of respect. He smiled a little, feeling recognition flow through him, as it did everyone who looked upon the tiny girl. He barely noticed Gandalf move to his side. It was common knowledge that strange happenings piqued the old wizard's curiosity like nothing else and brought forth his determination to uncover mysteries presented before him.

"I am Lord Elrond," the Elven leader spoke unnecessarily. The girl looked back up, meeting his eyes easily for one so much shorter.

"My Lord Elrond," she greeted. "I come bearing a message from the Valar." There was a stunned gasp from those in the group that heard her words, referring to the Elven Gods. Elrond however was calm. After hearing them call his name, he had been prepared for something to happen. A mysterious girl falling into his council chamber hadn't been it, but he knew better than to question the Valar's mysterious ways.

"And what message would that be?" he asked simply, noting that the girl had focused all her purpose and attention on him. She smiled softly.

"My Lord," she began, "they want you to know that they have heard you mourn. And so, to help in this quest, they have consented to send you a warrior of the light." Elrond nodded, knowing instinctively her words to be true. Gandalf coughed slightly, drawing their attention.

"And just whom might this warrior be?" he demanded of the girl.

"Me," she answered pertly. The small group ignored the protests and outrage of the others around them. Elrond and Gandalf eyed her carefully. They had both learned in their long years that it was futile to rail against the will of the Gods and so accepted this, for the time being. Elrond sighed as the heated words of the assembled group filtered to his ears. He held up his hand and they quieted slowly.

"Friends, I believe that it would be prudent of us if we were to reconvene the council tomorrow," he announced. "There is more afoot here than we know. Gandalf and I must be allowed time to ascertain some things before we talk again." With grumbles and protests, the group began to make their way from the council room. Elrond waited until the only ones left were himself, Gandalf, Strider, Legolas and the girl. He turned back to her, prepared to offer hospitality to this enigma, when he saw her sway on her feet. "Child?"

"My apologies, my lord," she whispered, drawing a trembling hand over her eyes. "The journey here was…" she glanced up at the sky, where she had come from, "…most disturbing. I think I'm going to faint." That was all the warning they received as her eyes rolled back into her head and she lost consciousness. Legolas caught her quickly, having been prepared for such an action.

The Elf swept her up in his arms, cradling her gently, as if she were his most treasured possession. Elrond took this in, his mind registering the look on Legolas' face. "Bring her this way. We will let her rest and recover." Legolas nodded and followed the Lord of Rivendell, careful not to jostle the girl.

Gandalf hesitated a moment, as did Strider. "This is interesting, very interesting," the old wizard grunted. Strider gave him a look full of mirth.

"Indeed it is, old friend," he clapped a friendly hand on the wizard's shoulder and the pair followed after the elves.


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Three

Elrond had led Legolas and his precious burden to a small chamber; very similar to the one that housed Frodo when he was ill. Along the way, he summoned a servant to tend to the girl. Legolas was loath to let her loose, but obediently put her on the bed. Strider grimaced when he realized that as she was, she was laying right on the sword that was strapped on her back. But as he moved forward to relieve her of the cumbersome object, her eyes snapped open.

"Don't!" she shrieked. Strider pulled back rapidly, his hands held up in a gesture of peace.

"I am so sorry, my lady," he told her quickly, imagining what she must have been thinking. "I only meant to relieve you of the sword so that you could rest peacefully." He was glad when she let out a small breath and nodded.

"I know that," she replied with a tired half-smile. "It is just that the sword is…dangerous to those not of my blood line. I wouldn't want you to harm yourself."

"Dangerous?" Legolas repeated. "How so?" Elrond and Gandalf leaned forward to hear her answer, despite themselves.

"It is not so much the sword, but the stone set in the pommel," the girl sighed. She really didn't want to explain the intricacies of her upraising with the strangers. "It is a magical artifact of power. It knows the difference between my family and strangers and reacts badly when strangers touch it."

"How does it react?" Gandalf queried, ever curious. He swore her eyes flickered in remembered pain.

"It…uncreates them," she whispered. She glanced away and Gandalf closed his eyes. He heard Elrond mutter under his breath a short curse. Both of them knew the danger and power in those words. The purpose of the universe was to create.

"Powerful indeed," Gandalf finally recovered himself. "I thank you for the warning."

"I have no idea if it would hurt an innocent, one who was unaware of the danger, but I have no wish to test that theory." Strider leaned forward with a strained smile.

"I also should thank you," he murmured, "for having a care of my life, when I did not." She simply nodded, her tiredness catching up with her. She smothered a yawn and Elrond made an imperious gesture.

"My dear, you must get some rest," he ordered. "I will send a servant to you. By your leave, I will return this evening, to further discuss your mission." She nodded again, leaning forward to remove the sword and sheathe. She leaned it against the headboard, making sure that it wouldn't slip. The others slipped from her room and Elrond indicated to the servant outside that she could now tend the girl.

He led the others down the hallway, then suddenly stopped short with a chuckle. The others looked at him puzzled. "I must be getting forgetful in my age," he smirked.

"Why do you say that?" Gandalf asked.

"Old friend," Elrond sighed. "I felt, from the moment that I saw her, that I knew that girl. But I have wracked my mind and I can not remember where from. And I didn't even ask her name." The other three nodded in understanding.

"I feel the same way," Strider grunted.

"And I as well," Legolas murmured. He was strangely unsettled that the others shared his feelings.

"Curious," Gandalf frowned and then stroked his beard. "I felt the same too. I wonder if perhaps it wasn't some connivance set in motion to make us accept her more easily?"

"An unsettling thought," Elrond muttered. "Although, I heard my name on the wind, roaring through me."

"The Valar called you?" Legolas gasped, knowing how momentous the occasion was. Elrond nodded at the young Elf.

"I believe that I will want to talk to this young lady this evening as well," Gandalf smiled secretly. Strider and Legolas expressed their desires as well, and after gaining Elrond's permission, they divided and went to occupy themselves until that time.

The servant helped the girl prepare herself for a nap and promised to return and wake her in three hours time. The girl gave in to the urge to sleep. She had been very disoriented by the journey through the portal. She had never done so in that manner before and knew she needed to rest before she was strong enough to tackle the impact of it on her senses.

It didn't seem like very long until the servant returned. She busied herself around the room, directing others to prepare a hot bath for the girl, knowing that she'd be more amenable to waking if there were a treat waiting for her. So once all was in preparation, she moved to the bed, carefully avoiding the sword. Everyone had been warned about it so that there would be no accidents. The girl responded to the light touch on her shoulder and sat up, fully alert.

"I had a bath prepared for you my lady," she offered shyly. The girl smiled in return and pushed the downy blanket from her form. Swiftly, she was up to her neck in deliciously scented water as the serving girl moved about the room, unpacking the girl's bag. She gasped when she held up an emerald green dress much in the style that elves wore. Gold thread shot through the sleeves in intricate designs.

The girl turned to see what the fuss was over. She smiled, glad to see that her favorite dress had survived her trip. "I think perhaps, I'd better save that for tomorrow." The serving girl nodded.

"If you would care, my lady," she offered gently, "I could use this as a model to alter some other dresses for you to wear now." She was disappointed to see there were no other dresses.

"Would there be enough time before Lord Elrond returns?" the girl questioned anxiously. The servant nodded her head, happy that the girl agreed. "Then please do so." The servant slipped from the room. She wasn't gone long before she returned her hands empty.

"The seamstress is attending to the alterations now," she informed the girl. And so they spent the rest of the afternoon, preparing for Lord Elrond's visit.

Elrond was first to arrive outside the girl's chamber. The servant he'd sent to her earlier was returning now, a dress slung over her arm. She stopped and curtsied, informing her lord that the girl would be ready to receive him momentarily. Elrond just nodded and waited for Gandalf to arrive. He did so shortly, Strider and Legolas in tow. Finally, the chamber door opened and they were allowed entrance.

The picture that the girl made stunned all four. She was standing, her back to them, on the balcony, enjoying the last light of afternoon sun play over her face. She was gowned in a deep cream dress that adhered to her as if a second skin before flaring at her hips. Her glorious red hair was piled high on her head and more than one wondered how her delicate neck could support the weight of it. Legolas gulped noisily, a strange wealth of emotion overcoming him at her beauty.

The girl turned slowly and graced them with a small smile upon seeing them. She entered her chamber and moved to stand before Elrond. She curtsied with an easy grace, giving them the impression that she made the move many times before. "My lord Elrond," she spoke, her words matching her grace, "I am overcome with the hospitality you have granted me." Elrond bowed automatically, in a move rarely bestowed upon anyone.

"It is my pleasure," he replied with a strange smile. The others followed suit, bowing at her. It seemed that the situation called for formality and ritualistic tradition. "Please allow me to present my companions. This is Gandalf." The old wizard beamed at her and winked saucily. She gave the wizard a small grin, recognizing him for the gruffly, gentle fellow he was most times. "This is Strider, a Ranger from the north." She turned to Strider and nodded to him. Strider bowed again, not trusting his voice. "And this is young Prince Legolas, of Murkwood." As if waiting for that precise moment, Legolas moved forward and caught the girl's hand.

"I am honored to meet you, my lady," he murmured as he brought her hand to his lips, letting them slowly caress the soft skin he found there. He was pleased to see the light blush that crept over her cheeks. When she tugged slightly, he reluctantly let her go.

"And what may we call you, my lady?" Strider asked before his friend startled the girl more. She turned to him gratefully.

"I am Beldaran, of Riva, on the Isle of Winds," she offered, knowing that the location she named would mean nothing to them.

"Beldaran," Elrond tested the name on his memory and still found nothing. "It is a lovely name."

"Thank you," Beldaran blushed again. "It was the name of the first queen of my people."

"What does it mean?" Gandalf asked. Names were more important than most people realized they were. Being named for a queen gave power to the name and he was ever curious.

"It does not have a specific meaning," Beldaran explained shyly. "But Queen Beldaran was known as the 'vessel of love'."

"A description that you carry well," Legolas murmured. Strider poked his friend in the ribs, as Beldaran's blush deepened. Elrond noticed as well and cleared his throat.

"If you do not mind Lady Beldaran," he caught her attention. "I have arranged a repast to be served while we talk." She simply nodded and Elrond called for the servants to begin serving the meal. Legolas hurried to the table set close to the balcony and pulled out a seat for the girl. She slid into it without looking at him and murmured her thanks. The others took their seats and waited until the servants were done before picking up the thread of conversation they were anxious to have.

"So, Lady Beldaran," Elrond began carefully. "You are a messenger and warrior for the Valar?"

"As strange as it may seem, I am," she shrugged delicately. Before anyone could ask, she explained further. "When I was a child, one of the Valar summoned me to his side. Various members of my family were champions for the light and it was felt that I had…the right qualifications to follow in their footsteps."

"Forgive me, my lady," Strider interrupted, "but you do not seem as if you belong in battles."

She smiled softly at him, indicating that she was not offended. "While many a battle can be won by muscles alone, it also takes, skill, cunning and dedication to the cause to be ever successful." Strider nodded a glimmer of understanding running through his mind. They all thought about this for a moment, applying themselves to the food before them, before Gandalf spoke up again.

"How long have you been champion for the Valar?"

Beldaran leaned back in her chair to think for a moment. "In truth, only a year has passed on my world since the calling. But in that time, I have served many lifetimes over in the battle between dark and light." Gandalf nodded.

"You must have been very young when you were called," Strider commented. Beldaran smirked at him.

"Age is but a number that defines nothing but your past," she grinned. "It is the future that I look forward to, as it is what holds all the surprises."

"Well said," Elrond chuckled. The group ate in silence again for a few moments. Elrond discreetly studied those around him. Gandalf was thoughtful, Strider enjoying the girls wit and Legolas, the poor boy was having a difficult time turning his attention away from the lady. "So, Lady Beldaran, have you any idea what you are to do here?"

Beldaran carefully dabbed at her mouth with a linen cloth before answering. "The Valar are aware that one of the group assembled will need to take the Ring to Mount Doom to destroy it. And while I can fight in battle, it was decided that I am better suited here to morally supporting the one chosen."

"Why would you be better suited to that?" Strider asked.

"I have faced many temptations in my life," she spoke softly, as if the memories were hurting her physically. "But I have never been tempted." She sighed, glancing out at the stars that were beginning to appear in the sky. "I have lived with the Valar, in peace beyond thought and knowing. And there is nothing in this universe that is worth losing the chance to know that peace again." Her words effectively silenced any arguments to the opposite. Finally Gandalf cleared his throat.

"There is one more matter that needs clarifying," he announced. Beldaran looked startled. "We've noticed, young lady, that from the moment you first appeared, you were very familiar to us. What was that about?" Beldaran relaxed and a full-throated laugh erupted from her.

"Oh, that was my fault," she finally told them. "I was watching from the mirror of Eriond during the council and I strayed too close to the water. Because I am not Valar, I am unable to control the water."

"So what did you do?" Elrond demanded lightly.

"In close proximity, the water picks up on the emotion of those present and echoes it back in the subject of the moment," Beldaran instructed them. "Since I had watched you all for a few months of your time, I felt as if I knew you. So now you feel as if you know me. Don't worry, it will fade shortly."

"Ah," Gandalf sighed. It was not quite what he was thinking, but it made sense to him.

"Well," Elrond smiled. "I think that answers the majority of our questions. We will reconvene the council tomorrow and as much as I dislike the idea of offering you up in harm's way, I believe that the Valar have made their wishes known. I invite you to attend." His words were oddly formal and Beldaran responded in kind.

"An it pleaseth thee my lord," she unconsciously lapsed into the formal language she'd learned as a child, "I shall endeavor to obey." Elrond nodded once and stood, motioning for the others. They followed suit and bade Beldaran good night. Legolas was the last to leave her chamber. He noted that she seemed shy and hesitant when it was just the two of them. Knowing her slightly better now, he knew not to push her.

"Sleep well, my lady," he murmured to her from the door. She nodded and ducked her head. Legolas slipped out the door, shutting it softly behind him. He looked up to see his friend grinning at him.

"What?" he demanded, unnerved by the knowing look, but not showing it.

"You're quite taken with her," Strider teased. Legolas just shrugged and walked down the corridor, ignoring the laughter behind him.


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Four

The following morning dawned cool and clear. Crisp autumn was in the air. Beldaran woke in the comfortable bed, but was unnerved when she didn't recognize it immediately. She reached out with all her senses and discovered the innate peace, but with an underlying sense of urgency and fear. She slowly recalled where she was and why she was there. A soft knock on the door made her sit up. She called out and the door swung open. The servant, who'd attended her yesterday, Alasse, stepped into the chamber, pleased to see that her charge had woken up well.

"Good morning my lady," she greeted softly and moved to place her tray on the table.

"Good morning to you Alasse," Beldaran replied. She pushed back the blanket and swung her legs over the edge. She stood and straightened the flowing night rail over her body modestly.

"I have brought fruit to break your fast with," Alasse told her. "And if my lady wishes, a bath as well."

"Oh, that would be wonderful," Beldaran sighed as she sat at the table. Alasse nodded, liking this young girl despite the long held prejudices of her people against the other races.

"I will prepare it then," she said simply. She disappeared from the room on silent feet and Beldaran attacked the fruit with relish. She was nearly done when Alasse returned, leading the same servants that had brought her bath the evening before. Once done, Alasse shooed them out the room, preferring to attend the lady herself.

As Beldaran sank into the copper tub provided, she saw that they had returned her green dress from the day before. Alasse was carefully shaking out the folds to ensure that there were no wrinkles. She laid it on the bed, then turned back to the girl. "The lady Arwen would like to talk with you later, if you are agreeable."

"The lady Arwen is…?" Beldaran asked. She couldn't recall the name.

"She is Lord Elrond's daughter," the servant supplied the information.

"Oh, that is not a problem then," she decided. "Will she come to me, or do I need to go to her?"

"My lady Arwen will come to you when her morning tasks are attended to," Alasse informed her.

"She is the lady of the household?" Beldaran asked wisely. The other girl simply nodded. They continued preparing for the visit and later, the council. By the time Arwen arrived later that morning, Beldaran was pleasantly pampered, coifed and waiting.

Arwen, who had heard of the girl from her father and various servants, was curious to see the manner of woman who could so easily slip into her father's good graces. She knocked on the chamber door and was immediately allowed entrance. Alasse nodded and gestured to the balcony.

"She is outside, my lady," the servant told her. Arwen nodded, catching sight of the petite form.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You may leave us." The servant nodded and gathered up her tray and slipped from the room. Arwen moved to the balcony, but something alerted the girl and she turned, a broad, welcoming grin on her face.

"Lady Arwen," she greeted softly and gave a small curtsy. Arwen smiled despite herself. But before the girl could see, she quickly slipped her face back to the regal bearing she presented to the outside world.

"Lady Beldaran," she returned. "I am pleased to welcome you to Rivendell." She studied the girl, as everyone referred to her. But, with a female eye, took in that she was no mere girl. She was a young lady. She was dressed exquisitely in a deep emerald green gown that suited her well. Alasse had styled her fiery red hair so that while most of it was pinned atop her head, there was also a large curl that lay draped down her right should, curling at the end just below her collar bone. She was tiny, but endearing and Arwen found herself hoping that she liked the woman.

"My thanks," Beldaran chuckled. "Males tend to sometimes forget the basic precepts of polite company."

"Oh, has anyone been rude to you?"

"Oh no," Beldaran shook her head carefully, not wanting to dislodge her hair. "It is just an observation that I have made in my life that always seems to hold true, but for a few occasions."

"Ah," Arwen understood. She hesitated only a moment before broaching the subject she'd come to discuss. "I understand that you are here because of the Ring?" Beldaran studied her for a moment. She understood that the races of the world tended to protect the women of their society. So for Beldaran to join the company of men, it was a little of an insult and problematic situation.

"If I had a choice," Beldaran sighed, "I would be safe at home. But I can not turn away when I am needed."

"And you are needed here?" Arwen surmised. Beldaran simply nodded. "Come, let us walk until you are summoned to council." She led the girl out of her room, intent on bolstering the girl's spirits by showing her one of the things she would be fighting for. Another servant found them an hour later, apologizing for interrupting. Both females waved away his concern. They knew it was time for the council.

Legolas sat calmly in the seat he'd occupied in the council chamber the previous day. Even though he managed to maintain the facade that all was well, it wasn't. Thoughts of Beldaran had stayed with him all night. He mulled over the possibility that it was the spell she had done before she came that made him feel the way he was. The thought tumbled through him until all he could do was resolve to wait and see if the feelings faded as she had assured them they would. He did not like being manipulated and was slightly angry with her for doing so. He knew it was irrational, especially since it hadn't seemed to affect the others as it had him.

So it was to his surprise that he reacted as badly as he did when his keen Elvish hearing brought to him the whispers from the men of Gondor. One of them had caught sight of the girl on her walk with Arwen and was now making rude comments about her. The blondish leader of the trio was laughing about ways the girl could keep him warm at night and fill his needs, as he wanted. Legolas was halfway out of his chair, ready to chastise the man with his fists if necessary before another hand caught him. He glared down at his Elven brethren. He knew that he had caught the whispers as well.

"Why the concern, Legolas?" he questioned softly in Elvish. Legolas fell back to his seat automatically. He glanced around the room, slightly embarrassed at his reaction. "She is just a woman. One we need not concern ourselves with." Legolas clenched his jaw, hurt by his friend's words, even though he had often voiced the same sentiment.

"She is a lady," he muttered softly, also in Elvish. "They should not insult her like that. They do not even know her." His friend shrugged a delicate shoulder.

"And neither do we."

Legolas was prevented from answering as Elrond made his way to the council chamber, Beldaran on his arm. His breath deserted him as she stepped softly into the room. If he had thought her lovely the evening before, well, now in his current state, he knew her to be breathtaking. He had to forcibly restrain himself from going to her side. Elrond moved forward and bade her sit at his left hand. Normally, that was where his guard would have sat. But another chair had been provided for the warrior and he took up his position behind and slightly to the left of Beldaran. It was a move that everyone present understood. Beldaran was under the considerable protection of Elrond himself. Any insult to her would be an insult to him. Legolas relaxed slightly as he took this in.

Beldaran glanced about the room, knowing the shocked looks on the faces before her were partly due to her change in appearance and the rest to Elrond's silent warning in his actions. She pulled her attention back to him as he began to speak.

"I have the distinct honor to present Lady Beldaran," he addressed the room at large. "She has been sent to aid us in this time of darkness." He let that settle in, then turned back to the hobbit. "Now, to the business at hand. It is time for the Ring Frodo."

Beldaran watched as the halfling shuffled to the pedestal in the center of the room and reluctantly placed the Ring in its exact center. She shuddered delicately as she felt waves of evil emanating off it. She turned away from it in distaste; her attention caught by one of the men leaning forward, a strange gleam in his eyes. She continued to watch him carefully as he began to speak slowly, telling them all of a dream he had had. Prophetic now, it seemed, of the Ring's return. Something seemed to call out to the man and he neared the pedestal, his hand stretched out to the Ring.

"Boromir!" Elrond barked the name, fearful of the man's ill-advised action. Gandalf flew swiftly out of his chair. He chanted heavily, words rolling distastefully from his tongue. Beldaran saw the elves flinch as if one and looked to see Elrond falter. She was out of her chair immediately, supporting him. As Gandalf gasped out the last word, Elrond finally relaxed and smiled gratefully at the girl. She nodded once and returned to her seat, shooting a sympathetic look to the other elves. She caught sight of Legolas, barely catching the tear formed in the corner of one eye. He glanced away, embarrassed that the hated words of Mordor affected him so visibly. Beldaran listened with one part of her mind as Elrond chastised Gandalf, but the wizard was unrepentant.

To Beldaran, the conversation was unimportant. She knew who would take the ring, but at the moment, she needed to get a sense of the fellowship along for the ride. So, as Boromir and Legolas argued, she took in their auras. She found what she had already suspected in Legolas. He was a stalwart friend, true. His love for his home spurred him to protect it. He held to some of the prejudices of his people, but his travel and friendship with a few outside his race had softened the edges of that a bit. The other one, Boromir, was a proud man. He too had a great love of his home and people. But it was his pride that spurred him on, making him slightly dangerous. She knew that in his vanity, he would be an easy target.

She turned next to Aragorn, as Strider had just been revealed as. She already knew this, and so was not as surprised as some of the others. Aragorn commanded Legolas to sit down, wary of the attention thrown his way. He glanced at Beldaran and was surprised to see merely a contemplative look on her face. Aragorn appreciated the fact that she wasn't making an issue out of his deceit, as he knew most women would.

Beldaran could almost read Aragorn's thoughts as he glanced at her. He was embarrassed and fearful of his true self. He feared that the blood of the betrayer was too strong in him to overcome. She knew that was why he ran from his destiny. He was as strong, stronger even than Legolas and Boromir combined in his love of his people. And it was that strength that made him sacrifice his place as leader. Not wanting to be the downfall of those he could lead. Beldaran grimaced inwardly as she imagined the time she'd have weaning him of that notion. She turned her attention next to Gimli, son of Gloin, the dwarf. He responded to Elrond's command that the Ring must be destroyed, in simplistic dwarven logic. Beldaran had to quickly suppress her grin when he shattered his axe upon the Ring and flew back a good four feet.

Legolas glanced up just in time to catch the fleeting grin and gave one of his own. Truly, she was marvelous, seeming to him more Elf than human in that moment. Beldaran blushed, knowing that the Elf had caught her and turned her attention to the Dwarf struggling to rise from his abrupt connection between the ground and his back. He was truly a Dwarf through and through. He was also a little impulsive, as he had just shown. Thought became action with barely a moment's breath between them. She knew that that would definitely lead to trouble.

The arguing continued between Boromir and Legolas. Then Gandalf joined the fray. Finally Gimli yelled that he would be dead before he saw the Ring in the hands of an Elf. There again was his impulsiveness. It set everyone off this time, the Elves leaping forward to defend their friend, the dwarves echoing their friend's sentiments. The human's trying to force their opinion through and Gandalf telling them all the truth of the matter, not that they listened. Each one convinced at the supremacy of their own race and ideals.

Beldaran heard the whispers coming from the Ring. She turned to study the last member of the group. She felt she knew him best, having watched him longer than the others. Frodo, the simple Hobbit who had already carried the Ring through more danger than he should ever have known. The still young Hobbit, who'd once dreamed of sharing adventure with his Uncle Bilbo. But now, in the realization of what adventure really was, longed for nothing more than peace, the peace he had known before the Ring.

Beldaran moved from her chair to kneel beside him, tears in her eyes. She knew the same longing for peace, having carried it with her many lifetimes over. Frodo looked down into her eyes, sensing the recognition of his feelings, the knot of fear and revulsion in his stomach.

"How can they think to overcome the power of the Ring, if they can not even overcome their own pride?" she asked softly, for his ears only. He stared at her, dumbfounded. "How can they seek peace, when they know it not in their own souls?" The words made a strange sense to Frodo and he nodded at her.

"I will take it," he told her. She smiled tremulously at him through her tears. Something clicked in her when he uttered those fateful words. She knew instinctively that the right choice had been made.

"And I will be there, in the darkest hours, that you may rest your weary heart in my hands, child of light," she replied, filling her words with as much hope as she could. Frodo squeezed her hand in thanks as he stood, and she followed behind him.

"I will take it!" he shouted. Gandalf stiffened and closed his eyes, as if in pain. This was what he hadn't wanted to happen. The rest of the group stopped their shouting, Frodo's words finally penetrating their anger. "Though I do not know the way," Frodo stammered nervously. Gandalf smiled tiredly and moved to stand comfortingly by his young charge.

"I shall help you bear this burden, as long as it is yours to bear," he told the halfling. Beldaran smiled graciously up at him. She turned to stare full into Aragorn's eyes, silently commanding him. He was moving forward before he even knew it. There were bonds on him that he could not and would never shake loose. He knelt before the trio, addressing Frodo.

"If, by my life or death, I can protect you, I will," he swore fervently. "You have my sword." He stood and took a place beside Beldaran as she included him in her smile. Legolas, seeing which direction things seemed to be going, swiftly acted. Where Aragorn led, he would follow.

"And my bow!" he called out sprightly.

"And my axe!" Gimli grunted, not to be outdone by the Elf. He joined the group, glaring warily up at his enemy now turned companion.

Boromir eyed the group thoughtfully as he carefully approached. "You carry the fate of us all little one. If this is the will of the council," he glanced around for acknowledgement and found it, "then Gondor will see it done."

Beldaran saw Elrond about to speak and she shook her head quickly at him, something no one else noted. Elrond narrowed his eyes, wondering what she was trying to convey, when there was a loud rustle in the foliage behind them. Samwise Gamgee ran forward and took up a protective post beside his master. He declared his intent to follow Frodo and Elrond taunted him about his inability to even stay away from a secret meeting. He then eyed Beldaran again and she shook her head again. He sighed; longsuffering as two more little shouts were heard. This time Merry and Pippin came forth, their little mouths flapping as good-natured babble poured forth.

With a roll of his eyes, Elrond glanced at Beldaran one last time and she nodded. "So be it then," Elrond announced grandly. "You shall be the fellowship of the ring." There was a sigh of relief, now that the decision was made. And then they heard Pippin pipe up.

"Great!" He looked around. "So where are we goin'?"

Alasse=Joy


	5. Chapter Five

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Five

The council disbanded quickly once the decision had been made. Each needing time to be alone and reflect on the undertaking they had agreed upon. Legolas bid his fellow Elves a short farewell, promising to return later. They glanced knowingly at the girl who'd caught their friend's eye and just departed without words. Legolas hurried to Beldaran's side, afraid that she might disappear. He still felt the pull of her on him and was determined to seek out the truth of the matter.

"My lady," he spoke softly from behind her. She was watching Frodo and Gandalf leave the chamber. She turned slowly and raised her eyes to his, a shuttered look in her eyes. He waited for her to acknowledge him.

"Legolas," she murmured. He smiled softly, enjoying the way she spoke his name. "It means 'green leaf', does it not?" His smile grew to a pleased grin.

"You know my language?" he asked, delighted. She smiled a little at his enthusiasm, before shaking her head.

"No, I just sometimes get a sense of things," she explained. "It suddenly came to me and seemed to suit you, so I took a chance that I was right."

"How very odd," he puzzled. "What else do you just know?" She sighed and turned away from him.

"There are many things I know Legolas," her voice was slightly harsh. "But I can not tell you of them, because they haven't come to me yet."

"I do not understand," he told her honestly. He had been hoping that she would mention the feelings he had for her, in an effort to understand them.

"Neither do I," another voice joined in. Legolas knew that Aragorn was still close by, but he'd been hoping that the Ranger would keep his distance. Beldaran smiled up at the man as he joined them. "How can you know things, but not know them?"

"Simple," Beldaran scoffed, then glanced at their puzzled features. "Or maybe not. You see before I came here, there were certain things…implanted in my mind. They will not come forth to my conscious thought until needed. Sometimes a situation or conversation prompts them. Suddenly, I will see beyond what is being said or done and know more truth." They both mulled that over.

"That seems a cumbersome manner of doing things," Aragorn finally decided.

"It is," Beldaran agreed. "But it is for your safety, more than anything. If I were to impart some information before the proper time, it might change a decision you would make, drastically endangering the outcome we hope for."

"I can accept that," Aragorn smiled. It made good sense to him. Knowledge of the future was always a dangerous thing. But one thing still bothered him. "Is that why you weren't surprised by who I am?" He was surprised to hear her giggle and then blush.

"Actually, I knew who you were before I came," she grinned at him.

"The Valar told you?" Legolas demanded, wondering how someone so tiny and delicate could be in league with such powerful forces.

"Oh, we'd better put a stop to that immediately," Beldaran growled. Both males looked at her in shock. "First off, the Valar are not the only powerful beings in the universe. I only use that term to cover a broad range of their sense of being."

"What do you mean?" Legolas raised his eyebrows, unsure whether he wanted to contemplate a world beyond his own. He'd studied the stars in his youth, but had never considered life beyond what he could see with his own eyes.

"The Valar are the beings reigning over this world," Beldaran's tone took on a slightly lecturing tone. "In some cases, their power stretches out to other worlds as well. They are not alone, not the only powers in the universe. The one I serve, well, honestly, I serve more than one, are similar to the Valar, as they are on the side of light."

The males were quiet for a moment as Beldaran let that sink in. Finally Legolas turned and offered her his arm. "Enough of this," he smiled gently. "Shall we walk and enjoy the peace of Rivendell before we are forced to the arduous task of our journey?" Beldaran threw her head back and laughed lightly at his abrupt turn about. She knew what he was about, having dealt with male attraction before. And wisely, she slipped a hand through his arm and one through Aragorn's as well.

"Please," she asked. "I would dearly love to explore this haven."

Legolas threw a warning glance over at his friend. Aragorn smirked back at him. He sensed immediately that Beldaran was shy of being alone with the Elf and resolved to keep a protective eye on her. They walked slowly down to the waterfall, not speaking, simply enjoying the scenery. The taller males had to shorten their strides considerably so that Beldaran could keep up. They finally came to a stone bench and when she loosened her hold on them, they realized that she needed to rest.

"I am sorry," she apologized sweetly as she took a seat. "Normally, I have no such difficulties walking at distance. But the journey here was strange and unnerving and I find myself a little fatigued."

"Is it always thus?" Aragorn questioned. His concern stemmed from both his sensibilities as a gentleman and his fear that the upcoming journey would be too strenuous for her. But she shook her head.

"That is the first time I have accomplished my coming in such a manner," she told them easily. "Normally, when I travel through the portal, it is as an infant. So no one expects me to get up and be ready to be strong."

"You come to your missions as an infant?" Legolas questioned harshly, not liking the idea that she would be defenseless.

"That is only so that I may grow up with a sense of the world that I am fighting for," she explained hastily. "It is something I need to comprehensively work towards the desired goal."

"So you must be feeling a little lost here," Aragorn stated. She nodded shyly.

"My lady," Legolas jumped in swiftly, "if there is ever anything I can do to help you, please do not hesitate to ask." She glanced up through her lashes at him, still shy of him.

"Thank you," she spoke softly and he smiled at her, enjoying her gentle nature. Then her eyes widened and she turned once more to Aragorn. "Speaking of feeling lost, how are you now? Has that feeling faded?" They knew at once that she was speaking of her spell.

"It has," Aragorn confirmed. Beldaran nodded.

"It certainly took long enough," she teased. Aragorn ducked his head.

"I think that I fought against losing the feeling because it felt so very comfortable," he admitted. Beldaran laughed softly. Neither noticed the Elf's wide eyes. His friend had just admitted that his feeling of familiarity was gone. So why then did the Elf still feel it? And more strongly than ever?

"That's all right," Beldaran consoled the man. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to become friends." Aragorn simply nodded. They both looked out over the water, content to sit silently. Legolas contented himself at looking at the girl that was already meaning too much to him. And it was he that noticed the stray tear fall from her eye. He gently covered one hand with his own and wiped the tear from her cheek. She glanced up at him. "It's so beautiful here," she explained softly. "But it makes me ache for my home."

"Tell me," Legolas commanded sweetly. Aragorn and Legolas then listened as she happily launched into a description of her home on the Isle of Winds, the Citadel. Aragorn was interested in the fact that it was built in defense of the city that grew behind it. Legolas just enjoyed hearing her talk. But when she turned the conversation to the other place she considered home, the Vale, he was more content. She described the valley surrounded by tall trees so well, that he could see it in his mind's eye. She soon fell silent.

"Your home sounds beautiful indeed," Aragorn complimented. She laughed suddenly, feeling better now.

"My home could be a peasant hovel in the middle of the Sendaria plains," she chuckled, knowing that that name would be lost on them. "But as long as it was filled with love, it would be beautiful to me."

"Wise words from one so young," Elrond interrupted. Three pairs of eyes looked up at him. "But somehow, that does not surprise me."

"Thank you, my lord," the redhead spoke softly.

"Ah, my daughter Arwen was hoping that you would join her," Elrond directed her. Beldaran simply nodded and took her leave to visit with her new friend. All three males watched her leave. Then Elrond eyed the other two. "Do not hurt her," he warned harshly, reading much in their faces. "She is a precious gift to us all." Both males took the warning for what it was. Elrond too cared for the girl despite himself. They simply nodded their heads and then continued to watch the girl return to the house.

Beldaran found Arwen easily. Servants were expecting her and she was directed to the lady of the house. Arwen had prepared to have a light meal and was glad when Beldaran arrived. They sat and began eating before Beldaran cocked her head, as if suddenly realizing something.

"You are very lucky to have Aragorn's love," she commented. Arwen's head snapped up in surprise.

"How did you know?" she whispered, It was not something readily discussed in Rivendell. The love of the Evenstar for a mortal man.

"I am a woman," Beldaran scoffed. "And I have eyes. Your love is so strong for each other that it shines through every movement and word you make." Arwen leaned back in her chair, stunned. Beldaran grinned until another thought crossed her mind. Arwen noticed and pounced on it, hoping to get the woman off the subject that was sweet and painful for her at once.

"What is it, little one," the endearment slipped from her mouth, but she did not regret it.

"Legolas," she murmured her face aflame. Arwen studied her for a moment.

"What about Legolas?"

Beldaran glanced up, seeing understanding and friendship offered in the other lady's eyes. "He…scares me a little."

Arwen thought she understood what the girl meant but wanted to be sure. "Scares you physically, or scares you by the feelings he evokes in you?"

"The feelings."

Arwen nodded. "Have you ever felt this way before?" The girl looked miserable now.

"In other lives, I have," she admitted, her face still red. "But me, the person I truly am, never."

"So you remember these feelings you have had before?" Arwen struggled to understand the duality the girl must be feeling.

"I lived so many lives," Beldaran tried to explain. "And in most cases, things followed the normal course. I loved and even married. But it wasn't really me. As I am, in my world…I am innocent."

"Yet you know more than you ought." The redhead nodded. "And Legolas is making you feel more than you are prepared to handle right now?" Another nod. "Ah, little one. That is a difficult matter. I think the best course is to let things move slowly. Let yourself get to know Legolas. If love grows, between you, the rest will be easy."

"I can do that," Beldaran sighed. "But Legolas… he already seems to want more from me than I am prepared to give."

"Be honest with him," Arwen counseled. "If he cares for you, then he would never do anything to hurt you. Or push you beyond where you are comfortable." Beldaran contemplated her words and slowly agreed. They were silent for a moment, and then Arwen artfully distracted the girl, regaling her with tales of her people. They finished their luncheon in better spirits each, now fast friends and glad of it.


	6. Chapter Six

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Six

Legolas was delighted when he received a missive from Beldaran the next morning. He'd been up at sunrise and had already begun sorting through his pack, deciding what to take on the journey to Mount Doom. The company was only going to linger in Rivendell a few days more. The mission was pressing on them and according to Gandalf, it would take forty days for the first trek of the journey alone. So when the servant delivered her message, Legolas was glad for the distraction. He had been directed that the Lady Beldaran was in a small glade, close to the city itself and was waiting for him.

When he arrived, the beauty of the scene laid out before him, captivated him. Beldaran, dressed once again in her Ranger clothing, was skipping among the trees, stopping every so often to watch birds take flight overhead, or embrace one of the trees that caught her attention. Legolas felt a lifting in the burden of his heart. Almost he could join in, but too many years under his father's harsh tutelage had worked those childish impulses out of him. So instead, he was content to watch her frolic. Finally, with an agility that he admired, she scampered up into one of the larger trees, nestling herself into the sprawling branches. Legolas could no longer resist. He moved forward silently, until he was under the very tree she perched in.

He stared up at her, wondering where the dreamy look on her face came from. She looked so content, in her own little world. He hated to interrupt, but their time here was precious. He grinned. "You are as bad as a squirrel, dreaming while the rest of your mates work." Her eyes popped open and as she leaned over to see the intruder, she lost her balance. With a shriek, she fell from the tree. Legolas darted a step forward; his arms open to catch her. Unfortunately, the ground was uneven and he wasn't settled before she impacted on him. They tumbled together with the petite beauty lying atop the bemused Elf. She stared down at him a moment before she blushed deeply and scrambled backwards.

"Oh, Legolas," she gasped, kneeling before his outstretched legs. "I am so sorry. You should have just let me fall. I would have been fine."

"I could never do that lady," he chuckled. He reached out a hand and Beldaran obligingly pulled him to sitting position. "So, do you play often among the trees?" he asked softly, trying to put her at ease.

"As much as possible," she laughed. When she saw the amusement on his face, she shyly ducked her head down. "I'm sorry, trees make me a little giddy."

"Giddy?" he tested the word.

"Silly and joyous at the same time," she shrugged, hoping he would be distracted from his seemingly self-appointed task of teasing her.

"Giddy," he said again. "I like it." He could see her grin, even through the curtain of hair that fell around her face. He waited a moment. "So my lady, how may I be of service to you?"

"Oh," she glanced up finally. "I was wondering if you, or someone, it doesn't have to be you, but someone would help me, that is if they have the time…I mean I know we have to leave soon, but I thought…that is you said you would. But perhaps you would prefer-!"

Legolas finally silenced her with a finger upon her lip. She blinked rapidly as he leaned in closer to her. "If you wish to know, just ask," He instructed softly. She sighed and he removed his finger.

"It's been a while since I last fought and I was hoping to find someone to spar with," she explained. "I don't want to be a liability." Legolas nodded. He could sense still that she was not yet ready to share her feelings, if any towards him. So instead he offered friendship.

"It will be as you wish," he announced, glad to see the relief in her eyes. "Which weapon do you prefer?"

"Well, I trained initially on the sword," she thought aloud. "And my sword does seem to do most of the work for me. Perhaps a range weapon would be good. Bow and arrow?"

"Ah," Legolas joked. "Then you have come to the right Elf."

"Wonderful," she breathed. "When can we start?"

"Immediately, if you prefer," he offered. "We can go get you a bow and quiver and make our way to the training range." Beldaran agreed and soon, they were alone upon the field. Archery was a true love of the elves and Rivendell was no different from any other Elvish dwelling. There were large targets set up, stuffed with dried grass and various marks to aim for.

Legolas began with he basics, ascertaining what she already knew. It was a little. He had chosen a short bow, knowing that the traditional Elven long bow would be awkward for her. He instructed her how to hold the bow, how to notch the arrow in, aiming, and the proper length to draw the string. Soon enough she was taking a few practice shots. She was minorly proficient and Legolas was glad that he could work with her. She was an apt pupil, taking all his suggestions for improving and managing to implement most of them together. In their short time, she had improved dramatically, and it pleased him that she was interested in something he enjoyed.

But their peaceful session was soon disrupted by the arrival of the two men that had traveled from Gondor with Boromir. Of their travelling companion, there was no sign of him in the glade. As the men snickered over Beldaran's attempt at imitating the men, Beldaran felt her concentration slip and her arrow flew wide of the mark she'd aimed for. She flushed angrily as the men guffawed once more. Finally the taller of the two could no longer resist.

"Perhaps you'd learn a little more if one of us were to give you a lesson, little girl," he laughed uproariously. Legolas flushed as well at the implied double meaning of the Man's words. He would have leapt to Beldaran's defense, but she put a small hand on his arm to hold him back.

"I don't think you know anything that I think is worth learning," she replied coolly. She was about to turn away, but thought better of it. "In fact, I would wager that even with the limited lesson Prince Legolas gave me, I am a better shot than you are." Her little sneer brought about more laughter from the pair.

"And what would you be willing to wager?" the tall one demanded. Beldaran put her hands on her hips and looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Hmm, as I have no possessions that you would deign to use, I suppose I shall have to offer a boon to be named in future time." Legolas groaned at the look of interest playing over the men's faces. He pulled on her elbow.

"That is not a good idea, little one," Legolas hissed quietly. She grinned up at him.

"Trust me," was all she murmured. She turned back to the men. "Well?"

"You have yourself a wager!" he exclaimed. "I will offer a boon as well."

"All right then," Beldaran agreed. She barely noticed that a small crowd seemed to have gathered, attracted by the noise and lure of the practice range. Beldaran shooed Legolas away and he moved reluctantly to the sideline. Aragorn shouldered his way through, asking his friend for details. Legolas explained through clenched teeth. Aragorn looked slightly mutinous, but Legolas held him back.

"She would not appreciate interference," he growled at the man beside him. Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"Is she that bad?"

"She was improving," he muttered back. "Until they showed up." They both fell silent as the crowd watched with anticipation.

"Done then," the shorter of the men laughed. "The wager from each is a future boon. One arrow each." He turned and joined the rest of the crowd. Beldaran and the tall one had a quick discussion and she moved away to allow him to shoot first. Legolas and a few others groaned when the man hit his mark in the dead center. A few others cheered, enjoying the good show. Beldaran watched the man preen for a moment, then walked forward to take her position. She threw a glance at Legolas and smiled. He was clenching his teeth, a little muscle in his jaw betraying his tension. Unlucky for him, he didn't know that she had a secret weapon.

She notched her arrow as he'd taught her and drew the bow up to the proper angle to allow for the arc. It was unnecessary. She could have shot straight in the sky with what she planned to do and still accomplished a bulls-eye, as it were. She slowed her breathing and centered her eye line on the protruding end of the man's arrow. She focused carefully and as she let the arrow loose, whispered, "fly."

Her aim and sorcery were true. There was a decided 'thunk' as her arrow split the man's in twain. Surprised silence, then a roar of good-natured cheers. Beldaran took in her opponent's slack jaw, then turned and caught Legolas' equally stunned expression. She strolled over to where he was standing with Aragorn.

"Wonderful shot my lady," Aragorn laughed. "Legolas taught you well. And in such a short time." She simply grinned at him then turned to the Elf.

"What is the matter, o teacher of mine?" she teased. "Did you have so little faith in your student?"

"How did you do that?" he demanded finally. Beldaran giggled.

"I suppose you should learn now that I am a very determined woman," she lectured him mockingly. "When I put my mind to something, I stop at nothing to achieve it."

"Ah," Aragorn clapped a hand on the Elf's shoulder. "You've been duly warned, my friend." The poor blonde Elf looked over at his friend, then down into the gleaming eyes of the woman he so desperately was craving.

"Yes," he whispered. "I have been warned." He paused for a moment, the muscle in his jaw twitching again. He wondered if Beldaran had deliberately put on a poor show for him, just as an excuse to be close to him. In the matter of the dance of courtship, he would have been amused at such a tactic. But somehow, he'd expected better from this mortal woman. Before he could say anything else, Beldaran turned to Aragorn.

"Of course, if I didn't have a little trick up my sleeve," she grinned, "then that shot would have been beyond me."

"What trick is that?" Aragorn kept his voice quiet, not wanting the Gondor men to overhear and claim Beldaran as a cheat. Knowing more of their nature, they would demand Beldaran yield to them a boon too distasteful to think of. Beldaran was obviously thinking among the same lines. She leaned closer to the pair.

"Sorcery," she whispered so slightly that they both could barely make it out. Aragorn's eyes widened, as did Legolas'. Beldaran watched them digest that news.

"You mean, you…?" Aragorn trailed off. She simply nodded. He thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose that might just come in handy. But why on earth did you waste it on something mundane as an archery contest?" Her face flamed indignantly.

"They were insulting Legolas," she rapped out. Aragorn laughed as he saw his friend bristle slightly. "I know that he's more than Elf enough to deal with the likes of them, but I thought it would be better if the woman, who by the way, is completely unaware of the boundaries of normal behavior, were to handle the problem, rather than resorting to violence. Things are strained enough already without there being a rift between Legolas and Boromir." Both men looked about to object at the start of her tirade, but her quick words left them dizzy.

"Uh, your logic is impecable?" Aragorn ventured. Beldaran laughed.

"It always is, my friend." Man and Elf looked to one another and shrugged. They both knew that it was useless to argue with a woman. Even if one was right, a woman's displeasure was something not to be taken lightly. "So, since my archery lesson seems to have ended abruptly, perhaps we can spar. I need to work out the lag in some of my technique. Are you up for it Aragorn?"


	7. Chapter Seven

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Seven

They'd been travelling many days now, heading for the south passage. Gandalf had finally called a halt on a rocky outcropping. The poor hobbits had been whining quite a bit by then. Of course, they still hadn't got used to traveler's rations. And as they were making good time, Gandalf allowed it. It also gave Boromir and Aragorn a chance to train the hobbits further with their swords.

As Beldaran watched Boromir take his turn putting Pippin and Merry through simple paces, she had to stifle a chuckle as memory poured over her. When Aragorn had agreed to spar with her, she'd run off to get her sword. She'd met the pair in the glade she'd been in earlier. Boromir, who'd wanted to get a good look at the girl who'd bested his countrymen, had joined them. After a moment's discussion, Aragorn bade Beldaran to draw her sword. She'd done so, then had to laugh at the male's reaction to it.

Aragorn, having traveled with Gandalf before, was aware of Glamdring, Gandalf's sword, flashing silvery-white when the enemy was present. So his shout of 'orcs!' was a natural reaction. Boromir yanked his sword free as Legolas settled bow to hand in the blink of an eye, strong Elvish eyes seeking everywhere at once. Beldaran laughed so hard, she'd developed a stitch in her side. When her breathing returned to normal, she was able to relate why it was so funny to her.

"Don't worry boys," she'd chuckled. "The sword does this every time I draw it, enemy or no."

"Truly?" Boromir had gasped. He'd been duly warned about the sword, but they all knew little more than that.

"Yes, it's blessed that way," she'd giggled. "Hang on one moment." She concentrated and silently bid the sword to calm down. The orb, very sentient, if childlike in it's understanding, mutinously obeyed. It had been so long since the hand of the Iron-grip bloodline had caressed it, that it wanted nothing more than to rejoice. The males gasped again when the last lick of blue flame disappeared and it appeared as any other sword.

After that, the two men took turns helping Beldaran work the kinks out of her dance. But when Boromir took on a slightly condescending tone, she decided to teach him a lesson as well. She'd put a stop to his rambling, and told him that she was aware that she needed to work on certain things. She asked simply that he not flinch. He'd grinned good-naturedly and they began to spar. Within seconds, she'd kicked his right knee out from under him and as he landed, she caught his sword arm in her left hand as her sword made a dangerous downward arc. She'd stopped a hair's breadth from his skull. She'd pulled away, still holding his sword arm and muttered, just loud enough for him to hear, "you flinched." They both had a good laugh and Beldaran was glad to see him a little lighthearted.

She came out of her reverie to hear Aragorn ordering the Hobbits. "Gentlemen! That's enough!" She glanced up to see what had happened. Merry and Pippin had Boromir on his back, both of them sitting on top of him. Aragorn was striding forward to pull the mischievous duo away, when the canny halflings each reached to hook a leg. They quickly dispatched of Aragorn, as he landed on his back, the apple he'd been eating rolling from his hand. Beldaran smothered another giggle.

"What is that?" Sam suddenly demanded. Everyone looked up to see what Sam and Legolas were looking at so intently. Beldaran set her plate aside and hurried to the Elf's side.

"Nothing!" Gimli boomed confidently. "Just a wisp of cloud." They continued watching.

"It's moving fast," Boromir noted. "Against the wind." Beldaran glanced up at the Elf, still peering intently at the southern sky. His eyes widened noticeably.

"Crebain, from Dunland," he hissed. He grabbed Beldaran's wrist and yanked her down from the boulder as Aragorn and Gandalf yelled at everyone to hide. The Elf swept her under a rock, where an overhanging of brush could cover them. The others did likewise after a frenzied clean up of packs and fire. Legolas watched quietly as the birds flew as a pack closer to their hiding place. He would have continued to watch, but the fierce trembling of the woman at his side caught his attention.

They were lying along the length of each other, a fact that his body definitely made notice of. He looked down at her as she watched the birds, a pained expression on her face. When a loud screech reached their ears, she bit her lip and ducked her head quickly into his chest, the trembling increasing. In silence, he carefully stroked her hair, trying to reassure her without alerting the birds. He watched them wheel about and head back the way they'd come. Beldaran's head came up and caught Legolas staring at her.

He stared down at her, absently noting the unshed tears in her eyes, bringing even more sparkle to them. She moistened her lips and a yearning came over him. His head began to descend towards her before his mind registered. His only instinct to soothe and comfort her in her fright. Her lips parted, he was so unbelievably close.

"Spies of Saruman!" Gandalf voice startled them both. Beldaran blushed, ducking her head once again as she rolled away from Legolas, coming to her feet in an easy motion. Legolas followed, a little more than sorry that the moment had passed. "The passage south is being watched," the old wizard continued. "We must take the Pass of Caradhras."

There were shudders all around. None looked forward to braving the snow-capped mountain. But there were no arguments either. As the group rounded up their supplies, Aragorn noticed Beldaran wiping a few tears from her face. And the Ranger also noticed his Elven friend watching the woman with a stricken look upon his face. Aragorn wondered what could have happened in such a short time to hurt both of them. And though he had a few ideas, he silently resolved to approach them at a more opportune time.

And so the mountain trek began. The group came quickly to the snow and as the day wore on, it was getting increasingly more difficult for the littler members of the group. Gandalf led, followed by Gimli and the Hobbits strung between them. Legolas walked beside Beldaran, both of them locked in silence. Boromir, Frodo and Aragorn brought up the rear. The group heard a cry and turned as one to see Frodo slip and roll back down a slight way. Aragorn caught him up and set him on his feet again.

Frodo furiously brushed the freezing snow from his body and suddenly realized the ring was gone. Of course, the gold glinting in the snow, made it easy to pick out, but before he could move, Boromir had the chain. He picked it up, staring in thrall at the object, muttering about the impossibility of such a small thing being worth so much fear and doubt. With his back to the majority of the group, they were visually unaware of his temptation. But the sight of Aragorn's hand on his sword hilt told them enough.

"Boromir," Aragorn snarled. "Give the ring to Frodo." The stunned man faltered, then made his way to them Frodo fairly snatched the ring from his gloved hand. Boromir did not miss the threat in Aragorn's eyes.

"As you wish," he scoffed. "I care not." Then with forced good-cheer, tousled Frodo's hair and turned away. Aragorn watched him a moment longer, then relaxed his grip on his sword.

Higher up on the mountain, Beldaran watched as Boromir began to trudge once more towards them and a distasteful shudder ran through her. Legolas noticed and rested a friendly hand on her shoulder.

"Are you all right, my lady?" he asked, his words stiff. He was still ashamed of himself for his lack of control earlier. Beldaran glanced up at him shyly.

"I will be fine," she assured him, "as soon as I get those birds screeching out of my memory." Legolas gave her a half-smile.

"Aye, that noise was unpleasant," he agreed.

"And the things they were saying," she shuddered again, not noticing Legolas' shocked look.

"You could understand them?" he demanded. She seemed puzzled by his question.

"Of course," she shrugged. "Couldn't you?"

"That is amazing?" Legolas breathed. "Is it all birds, or just those?"

"All birds," she confirmed. "Not that any of the birds I am acquainted with were that bloodthirsty."

"Bloodthirsty?" again he was stunned. She simply nodded, not wanting to repeat the very things she was striving to forget. Legolas watched her for a moment as she continued up the mountain. He learned something new about her each day and it seemed as if he would never exhaust his joy of being taught.

As the snow deepened, Beldaran was able to sweep the memory aside as she concentrated on plowing through the drifts. She was relieved when Gandalf called a halt for the evening. Her legs were aching due to the constant force she was exerting, even with others breaking the path before her. A fire was quickly built up for the evening meal and once she'd shed her pack, she gratefully sank down near it.

The hobbits had noticed her sad mood on the trek and Merry and Pippin took it upon themselves to cheer and charm her out of it. They began by telling her riddles, which all hobbits enjoyed. But she proved swift and answered them easily. Then they regaled her with tall tales of their adventures in the Shire. She'd begun to laugh as Sam recalled young Peregrin's misdeeds with a certain Farmer Maggot's crops. She finally wiped a few tears of mirth from her eyes and turned to the grinning halfling.

"Peregrin?" she teased gently. "You do not look like a fierce hawk to me."

"Well," he declared, "at least I have a nickname to use. And one not such a mouthful, like Beldaran."

"Hey," she growled playfully. "I like my name."

"And I like my nickname," Pippin answered smartly, his eyes gleaming. "In fact, I think you could use one as well." Beldaran laughed again as she rolled her eyes.

"Aldur save me from imaginative halflings," she chortled.

"I know," Merry snapped his fingers. "She laughs like a tinkling bell." He grinned at his companions. They all caught the connotation and began to agree.

"Bell," Frodo smiled kindly at her. "I like it." He noticed her blush then. "What is the matter? Don't you like it?" Beldaran glanced away.

"It's a nice idea," she grimaced slightly. "But it means something in one of the languages I know."

"And what's that then?" Pippin demanded. She blushed even further, ducking her head and mumbling a reply. "What was that? Didn't catch it." She looked up and fixed him with a small glare.

"I said in French it means 'beautiful'," she sighed. Pippin and the others exchanged wicked little, mischievous grins.

"Bel it is then," the decided in one voice. She rolled her eyes again.

"Peregrin," she spoke in a warning tone, blaming this on him.

"Yes Bel?"

"Peregrin," she growled.

"Yes Bel?" he asked, beginning to laugh uproariously as she glared. Aragorn, who'd just finished attending to Bill, the pony, sauntered over and took a seat in the midst of the argument.

"What's going on?" he asked of her, but she ignored him. She pointed a stern finger at the youngest hobbit.

"You behave yourself mister, or I will turn you over my knee and spank you like the naughty child you are," she threatened. Pippin's eyes widened in delight.

"Ah, but you'd have to catch me first!" he yelped and sprang away from the group with a laugh. His frenzied burst away from the group ended when he realized she wasn't chasing him. He turned and stared at her with such a crestfallen look, that she could not hold to her stern mien. She doubled over laughing.

"All right Peregrin Took," she gasped. "If you want to play tag, then I'm game." And soon, once the others caught on, Merry, and Pippin were avid players. They even managed to get the dwarf chasing them, when they pilfered his axe. The rest of the crew laughed over their play. Finally Aragorn turned to see Frodo, a lighthearted grin on the hobbit's face, such as the ranger hadn't seen before.

"She is good for us," he sighed softly. Frodo turned up to look at his friend.

"Aye, she is," he agreed, just as softly.

"So tell me," he asked as they watched, "what set this off?" Frodo with a grin, explained what Bel's new nickname meant and Aragorn found himself agreeing just as intently with the halflings. Bel was beautiful indeed. In mind, body and spirit.


	8. Chapter Eight

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Eight

After the impromptu game of tag, the smaller members of the group were quite worn out. Aragorn had barely assigned the watch when Beldaran had curled up in her single blanket and had drifted asleep. The rest of the group watched her indulgently, most of them unconsciously assigning Bel the title of little sister. But soon, their delight in her fresh manner was overcome by the need for sleep. Gimli took first watch, which amounted to little more than keeping the fire fed with the little wood they'd brought.

Gimli passed his watch to Legolas and the Elf dutifully carried on tending the fire. And when his watch was done, it was Boromir's turn. But once he'd woken Aragorn, the Ranger wisely decided to let the fire die down a bit. As the cold crept in to the sleeping forms, they'd be more amenable to rising and moving about for body heat. It was then that he heard the unholy shriek.

Beldaran remembered the birds flying above her and the rest of the company as they hid. She flinched as their sickening desire for blood made her want to be ill. She tried to force her mind away from the disgusting images they gave her. But as they wheeled away to return to Saruman, it was as if they swooped her along with them. She knew then that it was a dream.

They flew miles in seconds, as dream birds were wont to do. Beldaran felt the lurch in the pit of her dream stomach at the sudden dive the flock took. A phosphorus smell assaulted her nose as the birds made their way underground. They kept flying, but Beldaran ground to a stop, caught by the mesmerizing glare of a white-robed man. He was tall, thin, wearing a malicious grin on his narrow face.

"So Gandalf," he intoned. "You try to lead them over Caradhras. And if that fails, where then will you go?" He mused as he surveyed the work being done below ground. "If the mountain defeats you, will you risk a more dangerous road?" He was so amused that he knew the mind of Gandalf better than the wizard himself did. "Moria!" Suddenly, Bel felt the dream shift. They were in a room in a tower. She'd been in enough towers in her life to recognize them. The white robed man was idly leafing through a book. "You fear to go into those mines. The dwarves delved too greedily and too deep." His eyes widened gleefully as he beheld the final page.

Beldaran was afraid at what the page might behold, but she had to know. She crept forward and glanced down. "You know what they awoke in the darkness of Khazad-dum." Bel jumped a little as the man continued, until she realized that oddly, he was still addressing Gandalf. "Shadow and flame!" Beldaran gasped as she saw the nightmare before her, lifting from the page, as real as if she were touching her own mother. She shrank back, knowing now what they would face.

"So little one," Beldaran spun around. The man's attention was focused on her, aware of her presence now. "You see me. You have power. But I also see you. I see all of you. I know all of you. Abandon this foolish quest. Join me! Join Sauron!"

The voice was mesmerizing. And it felt familiar to her for some reason. And suddenly she remembered. The day that lived in her history. The real history. When Poledra had used Pol's form to shriek defiance at the maimed God Torak. Resolve stiffened her spine. She could do no less against this madman, for she knew who he was. Her voice tight and high, but more powerful than a hurricane, was directed all at him. "Noooo!"

She sat up, gasping for breath. Aragorn reached her side quickly as she began to shake. "Bel?"

"Get him out!" she screamed grabbing wildly at her head as the last remnants of his

voice worked in her. "Get him out!"

"What's going on?" Gandalf demanded, kneeling at her side as she began to rock back and forth, her head buried in her hands. The others, also woken by her shriek had gathered close, but not too close. They knew to let Gandalf and Aragorn handle it.

"He's in my head," she moaned, still rocking. Gandalf grabbed her hands and stilled her.

"Who child?" he asked gruffly, already fearing her answer. She shuddered once and laid back, her hands still in his.

"Saruman," she whispered. Gandalf and Aragorn exchanged frenzied looks.

"What did he say?" Aragorn implored. They needed to know the threats Saruman laid upon her.

"He knows me," she replied brokenly. Tears fell from her eyes, rolling quickly upon her temple and into her bedroll. "He knows all of me." Suddenly Legolas was there, gathering her in his arms as she cried. He glared at the other two, silently warning them to let her be now. Gandalf nodded and rose on unsteady feet.

"When she's ready, we will go," he instructed the Elf. Legolas gave no indication that he heard all his focus on calming Bel.

It took less time than expected for Bel to compose herself. Yet the fellowship took care to be gentle with her. They ate a quick breakfast and gathered their gear. A silent fear gnawed at each of them. Fear, revulsion, anger all roiled together in their minds that Saruman had attacked the woman they all adored. They began their trek once more up Caradhras. But once they'd gone a little way, Gandalf decided that he needed to discuss her dream with her while it was still fairly fresh in her mind. He called Legolas to him and commanded the Elf to bring her to the front of the line. The Elf looked a little mutinous, but knew that it was better for Beldaran to deal with this, instead of letting the dream fester like an infection under the skin.

"My lady," he spoke a little louder than normal, as the wind across the mountain had picked up. Beldaran glanced up at him, then swiftly down again. After recovering herself and finding him holding her, she was even shyer with him now. "Gandalf wishes to speak with you." Beldaran sighed and was about to trudge forward, when she took in Legolas' stance on top of the snow.

"Now why didn't I think of that," she muttered. Legolas looked at her, puzzled, until she jumped above the snow. But when she came back down, she didn't sink. "That's better!" She grinned up at him and he was delighted to see a little of her playfulness back. He led her towards the wizard, who rolled his eyes when he saw them both above the snow. Berating them for showing off was not what he wanted to do, even though Gandalf was sure every member of the party was fed up with the Elf for not being bothered by the snow and driving cold. Legolas couldn't help being an Elf, but now Beldaran had joined him. It irked him for petty reasons that he should have been above, but inwardly, relished for a moment.

"I think it's time we discuss you're dream, child," he spoke loudly. Beldaran winced a little, then shook her head. "My dear, it would be better if you told me, got it out in the open. We need to know if Saruman has control over you."

"He doesn't," she insisted. Gandalf sighed. "Believe me Gandalf." She stared up at the old wizard. Smiling gently, cursing himself inwardly for being a sentimental old fool, as her doe eyes were really getting to him, he reached out and cupped her face. She swiftly placed her hand over his and opened her mind to him. Gandalf gasped as the enormity of her mind opened to him. There was nothing he could easily discern, but the sense of her purity. There was no hint of Saruman anywhere. She released him.

"I believe."

Legolas watched them with interest, until a small whisper caught at him, on the edge of the stiff wind. He turned his attention to it, knowing that Beldaran was somehow better now. The whisper annoyed him, taunted him. He prowled up and down the line, trying to discern what was bothering him so badly. As they neared the cliff edge they needed to traverse, the feeling grew even stronger. He moved forward to where Gandalf was breaking a path in the waist deep snow with his staff. At the cliff edge, he peered through the swirling snowflakes, his eyes searching, but seeing little.

"There's a fell voice on the wind," he yelled a warning.

"It's Saruman!" Gandalf yelled back, fully aware. His voice echoed among the storm, causing a brief fall of rocks. Legolas and the rest of the company reacted immediately. The Elf pulled the tiny woman into the wall of the mountain, shielding her body from the danger. He felt her cold and instinctively tried to warm her, but she pushed him away once the rocks had fallen away over the side. He let her, knowing better that the middle of a snowstorm was the worst possible moment for wooing.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled, still only barely heard by the rest. "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf shook his head as he forced his way to the cliff edge. Beldaran joined him as he raised his staff, desperately trying to calm the mountain storm that raged upon them. She'd heard many lectures in her life about the dangers of tapering with weather. She hoped Gandalf would calm the rage around them swiftly. Suddenly, the booming voice of Saruman came clearly to them all; a second's notice before the bolt of lightning hit the mountainside. For a second time they threw themselves back as snow avalanched over them.

Legolas, being on top of the snow, was able to burst through a little more easily than the others were and he quickly helped dig them out. He counted bodies quickly; the bottom of his stomach dropping away when he realized someone was missing. "Where's Beldaran?" he shrieked, panic already setting in. No one answered, as they looked as one to the cliff edge. "No!" he screamed, flinging himself towards the edge. Gandalf barely managed to catch his leg, or the Elf would have gone over too. "Let me go!"

"She's gone, Legolas!" the wizard yelled back. His heart was heavy, seeing the Elf's grief, knowing it mirrored his own. Legolas shook his head, still trying to break loose. He stilled though, as her sweet voice sounded in his mind.

_'I'm here Legolas…please, help me!'_ He renewed his struggle, actually managing to drag Gandalf another foot closer to the edge. He peered over the edge and his heart soared as he saw her, clinging precariously with her hands to a tiny ledge about seven feet down.

"I need a rope!" he demanded. His hand stretched back expectantly, his eyes never leaving her face. His hand closed around a length of it and he fed it over the edge until a good portion of it was near her. With relief he saw her grab it with one hand and quickly wrap it a few times around her palm. He shifted to his knees as he began to haul her up.

When Gandalf realized that Legolas really did see her and was really pulling her up, he scrambled to help. In minutes, her full head of bright red hair appeared and Gandalf steadied Legolas as the Elf reached out to help her the rest of the way. Once he'd pulled her from the chasm, he wrapped his arms about her waist, burying his face in her neck as she clung to him.

The fellowship released a sigh of relief, but her shivering form just reinforced what they all knew. "We must get off the mountain!" Boromir yelled finally. "Make for the gap of Rohan and take the west road to my city!""

"The Gap of Rohan takes us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"We can not pass over a mountain!" Gimli growled. "Let us go under it. Let us go through the Mines of Moria!" Gandalf shuddered at the mere mention. Hints of memory teased at him and he was silent as he tried to decide. Caradhras wouldn't be stilled. Isengard was as much a danger. But every inch of his being recoiled from Moria.

"Let the Ring bearer decide!" he turned to face Frodo, as did the others. Boromir pressed his case to the Hobbit, playing on Frodo's sense of responsibility.

"We cannot stay here!" he yelled in general. "This will be the death of the Hobbits! It almost killed Bel already!"

"Frodo?" Gandalf let the halfling know that it was up to him. The hobbit glanced around at the freezing, desperate faces, and then back at Bel's still shivering form. They needed to get her, all of them, somewhere protected and sheltered.

"We will go through the mines!" he decided. Gandalf ducked his head, knowing that as distasteful as it was to him, he had let the choice fall to another. He could not argue it now.

"So be it."


	9. Chapter Nine

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Nine

After much effort by the group to find the doorway to Moria, with the expected snide comments between Elf and Dwarf, the fellowship finally stood before the large stone. Gandalf brushed his hands over the stone. "Ithilden," he breathed, recalling what he knew of the place. "It mirrors only starlight and moonlight." He turned to glance up at the night sky that had finally fallen. But, of course, with their luck, the sky was filled with black clouds. "Blasted clouds!" he growled. Beldaran chuckled.

"Here," she muttered. She lifted her hand a made a curious gesture, while whispering the word, "move." Gandalf watched as the clouds zipped away, revealing the full moon. He raised a simple eyebrow at the girl. Having that brief glimpse in her mind that he did, he knew that she was a power to be reckoned with. She shrugged her shoulder, as if to say that it was nothing. The moonlight did it's magic and slowly, the glittering outline of the doors appeared over the stone's face. Gandalf stepped back; finally feeling accomplished at something on this trip. He gestured to the words with his staff.

"It reads, 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter'." There was a moment of silence.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry wondered aloud. Gandalf squared his shoulders, in the manner of all wizards who knew that to the mass, magic was more than just a spell, it was a show. And as always, Gandalf intended to deliver.

"It's quite simple," he exhorted. "If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." He lifted his staff, pressing it against the symbol in the center of the door and spoke aloud the spell. But it didn't work. Without betraying any emotion, he simply stepped back, lifted staff in the air and tried another. It still didn't work.

Pippin glanced up at Legolas. "Nothing's happening," he remarked conversationally. The Elf rolled his eyes. He suddenly felt old in a way elves did not understand when comparing himself to the immature hobbit. He glanced up to see Gandalf manfully shouldering the door, but it wouldn't budge. He avoided the looks of the rest of the company.

"I once knew every spell in all the tongues of Elves, Men and Orcs!" he grumbled. Pippin watched the grouchy wizard. Never in his whole life had Gandalf failed to deliver, until this adventure. In his childlike manner, his mouth moved faster than his head could interfere.

"What are you going to do then?" he demanded, sure that Gandalf would know something else to try.

"Knock your head against these doors, Peregrin Took!" he roared, wheeling around and glaring at the halfling. He saw Pippin shrink back at the anger in his voice. But Gandalf had been sorely pressed. To him, it seemed as if their accusing eyes were blaming him for ruining their entry to a place they definitely knew he didn't want to be. As if he were doing this deliberately so they'd have to go somewhere else. So he just couldn't stop the venom rolling off his tongue. "And if that does not shatter them and I am allowed a little peace from foolish questions, I will try to find the opening words!" He regretted it almost immediately as Pip's eyes widened and he saw Bel squeeze his shoulder comfortingly. Gandalf swore inwardly and turned back to the doors.

After a few more minutes, the rest of the fellowship realized that they might be there a good long while. Aragorn gently convinced Sam that it was time to let Bill the pony go. The others lounged or sat where they could. Beldaran took a seat next to Frodo, who was staring vacantly out at the water, watching small ripples form on the black surface.

"How are you doing Frodo?" she asked softly. He turned to her, his eyes missing the merry twinkle they were so known for.

"I am doing as well as can be expected," he replied diplomatically. The weight of the Ring on his mind was not something he could easily discuss. "But what about you? You've had just as bad a time as any on this journey. She smiled and waved her hand.

"I have a little something that helps me out a bit," she chuckled. Frodo looked at Legolas, who was watching them intently. Bel blushed and ducked her head. "Not that!" Frodo laughed as well. Beldaran shook her head, then reached into an inner pocket of her coat. Frodo watched with interest as she drew forth the strangest flower that he'd ever seen. She placed it in his hands. "For you."

Frodo looked dubiously at it then took a tentative sniff. The aroma the flower gave off was strong and purely sweet. He felt his spirits lift considerably. "How enchantingly odd," he grinned, sniffing again. "I've never seen this before." He waved Legolas over and the Elf happily obliged.

"Yes Frodo?"

"Look what Bel gave me," he chattered excitedly. "Have you ever seen the like?" Legolas took the small, lopsided white flower from him. He looked it over carefully, then took a sniff. His reaction was immensely similar to Frodo's. Good cheer seemed to abound.

"Never," he admitted, then turned to her. "What kind is this? It's wonderful."

"It's called Adara's rose," she informed them.

"Ah, it doesn't look like any rose I've seen," Legolas teased. Bel grinned back.

"My mother named it after my father's cousin," Bel told them. "Adara was heartbroken when she thought that the man she loved didn't return her love. This flower brought her peace of mind. But she left it, forgotten on a hillside. When she and my mother returned, the seeds had spread and the entire hill was covered with them."

"That's wonderful," Frodo sighed. Like any Hobbit, he liked a good tale.

"And did Adara ever win her love?" Legolas asked, kneeling before Bel. She nodded happily.

"Adara and Hettar have been married almost as long as my parents," she declared. Legolas smiled at the joy on her face as she reminisced about her family. With regret, he gave the flower back to Frodo, who tucked it into his coat, near his heart.

"It is good to know that while it might not run straight, love runs true," Legolas whispered gently. Bel nodded, then patted her coat, searching.

"Oh, that's the only one I had," she grimaced. "Hang on, I'll get another for you to have." The Elf and Hobbit watched as she scooped a dead twig and a fallen leaf off the ground. Legolas wondered if perhaps the cold of Caradhras had caused her sanity to slip. He and Frodo watched helplessly as she wrapped the leaf around the twig then exchanged worried glances. Bel just centered her focus on the twig and released her will. Before them, the leaf and twig were slowly transformed into another flower. With a cocky grin, she handed it to the dumbfounded Elf.

"My lady," he gasped, as he brought the flower to his nose and sniffed. It didn't smell quite like Frodo's. It smelled like her. Tangy, sweet and slightly exotic. "I will treasure this gift all the days of my immortal life." Beldaran leaned forward and kissed his forehead quickly. He was so stunned still that he just knelt there. She turned to Frodo.

"Now that is what I call gratitude," she sighed. Legolas sniffed once more at the flower then slipped it in his tunic, exactly as Frodo had done, over his heart.

"You are a very good friend, Bel," Frodo complimented her, his sincerity evident. She gave him a hug around his shoulders. The clatter of Gandalf's staff next to them startled the trio.

"Oh, it's useless!" he exclaimed, taking up the rest of the rock for a seat. Frodo's eyes narrowed as he looked from the doors to Bel. He stood up and moved towards the door.

"It's a riddle," he stated softly. He turned back to Gandalf. "Speak 'friend' and enter. What's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon," Gandalf replied tiredly. Instantly, the rock split open and the doorway appeared. With relief, the fellowship gathered up their equipment and made their way into the mine, warriors first.

"Soon, Master Elf," Gimli bragged happily to Legolas beside him, "you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves. Roaring fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone…" his boast trailed off as he moved farther from the Hobbits. They stood around Beldaran just inside the doorway, apprehensively waiting for the others to establish that it was okay to enter. Gandalf's dislike of the place had rubbed off on them. There was more whispered conversation they didn't catch. But Gimli running from spot to spot and yelling 'no!' was a clear indication that not everything was well. Legolas pulled an arrow from a decayed corpse and the hobbits and Bel noticed the bones littered about the floor. There was a hiss as Aragorn and Boromir drew their swords.

"We make for the gap of Rohan. We should never have come here," Boromir sneered. "Now get out of here. Get out!"

The Hobbits began backing up, stumbling a little over the bones. Suddenly, Frodo went down. The other Hobbits turned to help him up, only to be shocked as he was dragged from them

"Strider!" Sam yelled, as he hacked at the long black arm-like thing that had his Master.

"Aragorn!" Frodo called frantically as the thing tightened around his leg a moment before it retreated from the sting of the Hobbit's swords. But with unerring accuracy, more tentacles flew out of the water, knocking the Hobbits back. Bel threw herself on the Hobbit as two tentacles wrapped around them. They flew up into the air, only to be separated as the thing tried to better its grip on it's next meal.

"Strider!" Sam yelped again. But the others were finally there, slashing and hacking at the tentacles. Legolas shot arrow after arrow at the thing. His heart almost stopped when he saw Bel and Frodo lifted away, but instinct took over. As Frodo screamed, Bel took stock of the situation. With all the flailing, she knew they could cut many tentacles, before catching the correct one. So her instinct took over. She knew she'd have trouble reaching her sword on her back, even though it would do the most damage. So, she flicked her free wrist, the sheathed dagger falling easily into her waiting hand. She silently blessed her 'Uncle Silk' and 'Aunt Velvet' for sending such a Drasnian birthday gift her previous year. She slashed at the tentacle as it doubled around, causing the thing to drop her. It was almost beyond the limits of the thrall put on it by the ancient evil that had created it. It was hungry, but the pain was becoming too much.

Beldaran managed to draw in one breath before she hit the water. She kicked upwards furiously, not wanting to be caught underwater by the thing. She surfaced next to Aragorn, who'd just sliced the tentacle holding Frodo. The Hobbit dropped into Boromir's waiting arms and the four of them raced out of the shallow water.

"Legolas!" the Gondorian called. The Elf obligingly covered their retreat, shooting an arrow straight into the creature's eye.

"Into the cave!" Aragorn yelled, pulling Bel along. The heaving, writhing mass of the lake creature used its remaining tentacles to pull itself up out of the water and towards its prey. "Run!" The group ran for safety as the doorway of Moria began to crumble about the creature, effectively sealing them in.

There was a moment of quiet, and Gandalf spoke seriously. "We now have but one choice." He lit up the crystal in his staff, illuminating the area around them. Legolas looked down at Bel beside him, where she'd stopped. She was soaking wet, but he didn't care. He wrapped his free arm around her waist and pulled him to her, relieved. She leaned into him, grateful for the warmth and the gentle contact. Gandalf sighed. "We must face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and fouler things here than Orcs in the deep places of the world." He moved forward, never noticing that Bel was discreetly using her talent to wring the moisture from her clothes and hair. When a suddenly dry hand slipped into his, Legolas glanced down and smiled at the now dry woman. Her ingenuity and power never failed to amaze him. Someone stumbled on a rock. "Quietly now," Gandalf hissed softly. It's a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence might go unnoticed."


	10. Chapter Ten

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Ten

The fellowship followed Gandalf's light, strung out with the warriors making sure that the smaller Hobbits and Bel were secure in the center. All were on guard against unforeseen danger. Gandalf's words were not taking lightly. And then they had come to the stairs. Endless steps leading only to darkness. But up they went, for there was no other choice. Every once in a while, someone might slip on the steps, narrow as they were, but the person behind always made sure that a helping hand was there. Occasionally, Gandalf would cautiously swing his light back, to count heads and make sure no one had fallen or was lagging behind. It was with great relief that they finally reached the top of the stairs.

Gandalf led them into what seemed to have been a large, almost foyer, such as it could have been. His eyes darted around nervously. There were a couple of passages to choose from and he swept through his mind, looking for something familiar. The others of the group shuffled hesitantly, until he finally admitted defeat. "I have no memory of this place."

With a collective mental groan, the group collapsed where they could. Gimli pulled out his pipe and tobacco, taking advantage of the unexpected break. Sam had filched a little food from the pack and had snuck some to Merry and Pippin. Frodo sat, gazing about in the darkness, his small body still tense. Legolas lounged against a fallen stone, watching Beldaran as she plaited her hair. He'd never seen women pull their hair back that way and the design she used, similar to his small braids intrigued him. Boromir and Aragorn sat near each other, but for all their closeness, their body language gave away the mistrust between them.

Finally Beldaran finished with her hair and was putting her comb away as Aragorn made his way to her. "How are you faring?" he whispered softly. He knew that Gandalf wanted them to be quiet, but he also knew that he might not have another opportunity like this to discuss the Elf. It was important to Aragorn for many reasons, that both of them understood that the mission had to come first. Not that he was against his friend being happy. But dealing with a relationship, as he suspected these two might start, took too much time and effort. And right now they needed to focus on their journey. He felt that Bel seemed to be doing that fairly well. But when she was in danger, it was to her that Legolas looked to protect first. And while Aragorn's manners and upbringing prompted the same reaction, he tamped it down and concentrated on the reason for this quest. Frodo and the Ring.

"I'm fine," she whispered back. Aragorn stared at her for a moment, then glanced at Legolas, who was trying to project the air of someone mildly interested in all those around him. But to someone, who knew him as well as Aragorn, he was failing miserably. Aragorn knew that with his Elven senses, the Elf would hear their entire conversation. And he had yet to remind the Elf of his duty. Aragorn was hoping he wouldn't really have to. It was not really his place to tell them what to do. But the safety of the company weighted heavily on the Ranger.

"Are you sure?"

"Aren't we supposed to be quiet?" she countered with a smile. Aragorn smiled as well as he nodded. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he heard her voice in his mind. _'Then perhaps we should find another way to speak.'_ That had not happened to him in many years. And telepathy was not something he associated with humans. Just certain Elves and the Maia, like Gandalf. Suspicion crept into his mind.

"My lady?" he whispered harshly. She frowned at him. _'Do not speak the same words aloud Aragorn,'_ she instructed him. _'Just think it, I will understand.' _He gazed at her in wonder. He'd never been able to communicate his own thoughts to others in this manner.

'_You can hear me?'_ he demanded silently.

'_Of course,'_ she smiled. _'I have had plenty of practice at this.'_

'_This is wonderful,'_ he grinned. _'Can you do this with the others?'_

'_I have with Legolas,' _she thought at him. _'That's how he knew I was on the ledge, on Caradhras.'_ Aragorn glanced at the Elf, noticing the dangerous glint that had crept into them. Ignoring it for the moment, he turned his attention back to the redhead._ 'Of course, I'm sure that it would work with Gandalf. The others I'm not so sure about.'_

'_Why did you try it with me?'_

'_Anything is worth a try,'_ she shrugged. Aragorn nodded.

'_There is something I think we should discuss,' _he carefully avoided her eyes.

'_What is that?'_

'_Legolas.'_

Beldaran stiffened when Aragorn sent the word to her mind. She knew that the Elf had been growing more attentive to her. And if she were honest with herself, she felt more for him than she had back in Rivendell when they'd first met. And in her insecurity about the newness of things still, she'd been leaning on him more than she should. She'd first believed that his behavior was cause of the spell she'd caused before she came to Middle Earth. But it had lingered and was becoming more intent. She'd talked to Arwen about it, but as they'd begun their journey, her common sense had kicked in. She knew she couldn't become involved with him beyond simple friendship. She had a job to do and once done, she'd be returning to her home. It would be cruel of her to let him come to care for her, when she'd just leave him in the end.

'_What about Legolas?'_ she finally thought-asked him. Aragorn glanced up at the glowering Elf with a smirk. Legolas flushed briefly.

'_He's jealous.'_ Beldaran twisted around to look at the Elf herself. She caught a fleeting glimpse of the anger Aragorn had seen, but then the Elf flashed her a sweet smile. She smiled back hesitantly, then turned to face Aragorn once more.

When Beldaran turned away from him, Legolas felt as if a little crack ran it's way through his heart. His face slipped, his hopes dashed. Ever since Aragorn had made his way to her side, he'd kept track of their few words and then their facial expressions. He watched the smiles and grimaces and body language. If they were Elven, it would indicate a silent talk between the two. But they weren't, and the only other thing Legolas could think of was that they needed no words to communicate with one another. Small flashes of memory gave credence to this belief. Her easy nature around the Man. Her unspoken invite to walk with her, even though Legolas had been the one to invite her. Holding Aragorn's hand as they ran into the cave earlier. Now sitting with him, sharing things she had not shared with the Elven Prince.

'_Jealous?'_ she cast the questioning thought to the Ranger before her. _'Ah, well, um, he doesn't have any reason to be. I mean, um, I thought we were just friends.' _Aragorn caught himself before he laughed aloud. Poor Bel spoke as if she were trying to gently dash any hopes he might have.

'_I understand little one,' _he smiled gently at her as he thought. _'My heart already belongs to another.'_

'_Arwen.'_ He could hear the relief in her thought and nodded a small confirmation.

'_Perhaps when this journey is done,_' Aragorn tried to make her understand his position without threatening or hurting her, _'you and Legolas will be able to explore what is between you.'_ He was not prepared for the absolute terror on her face, nor the pain he saw in her eyes.

'_We can't,'_ she cast to him as a tear slipped down her cheek. Feeling his chest tighten, Aragorn reached out and rubbed her cheek gently, wiping the tear away. He noticed Legolas bristle, from the corner of his eye, but didn't care at the moment.

'_Why not, little one?'_

'_Because, when this is done, I will leave. I will return to my home, or my Master's side. I was not meant for this world.' _

Aragorn took in a sharp breath. He'd never considered that possibility. Even in the short time he'd known the little redhead, she'd seemed to fit into this world so naturally. Never questioning customs or ideals. She seemed born to it. It was easy to forget that she was more than stranger to the world. She was an alien to them. And now he knew why her eyes held sadness when she beheld the Elf. What would she have to give up were she to forsake her former life? Her family, her duty, her whole sense of being. All on the chance that she and Legolas might love. And then there was another matter, close to his own heart. Legolas was immortal Elven. Beldaran was not. Suddenly, his heart ached, not only for his friends, but also for Arwen and himself.

'_You should tell him,'_ he finally instructed her. _'It will only hurt more if you put it off.' _She nodded.

'_I will.'_

Before Aragorn could reply, a small cry went up. "Ah! It's that way," Gandalf cried. They saw that Gandalf and Frodo had been talking together.

"He's remembered," Merry rejoiced after he'd yanked his pipe out of his mouth. He scrambled to get his pack on and hurried to the wizard's side. Gandalf shrugged as he patted the Hobbit's shoulder.

"No," he disagreed. "But the air does not smell so foul down here." He glanced down with a grin. "If in doubt Meriadoc, always follow your nose. The Hobbits grinned and the company began to follow the wizard's lighted staff once more.

But Bel hung back a little, watching the Elf. He turned swiftly, realizing that she had not moved. Tempering his expression, he gestured for her to come along. She bowed her head and moved forward cautiously. Legolas averted his eyes from her, absentmindedly rubbing the spot where the flower she'd given him resided. He wondered now if she had only made it for him because he'd admired Frodo's. That was probably it, he decided. She was beside him now, but had stopped again.

"My lady," he reverted back to stiff formality, "we must go."

"Not until I know that you will be okay," Beldaran sighed softly, hurt because he was hurting.

"I am fine," he lied, still unable to meet her eyes.

"No, you are not," her tone was low, but he could hear the urgency in her tone. He forced himself to believe that it was the same care she held for the others, nothing more. But he knew also that he could not tell her the truth. Not if she cared for another.

"It is just being in the mines," he offered carefully. It was partially true. "Elves should not be separated from the sky and the trees." He was relieved as she sighed.

"I'm sorry Legolas," she whispered. "I never considered that." They were quiet for a moment and Legolas turned to help her down the next set of steps, but her hand forestalled him. "Is there anything…can you do something about it?" He frowned, then realized she was talking about the bleak darkness surrounding them.

"Just remember that it is not forever that I will be here, I guess," he admitted. "Just cling to my memories of the wind on my face and the smell of the trees after a gentle spring rain."

"Oh, like this?" she asked with a smile. She reached up and placed one small hand over his heart. Legolas would have rejoiced at the much longed for, but denied contact, but his mind's eye was filled by something that caught his full attention.

It was a place he'd never seen before, but as he glanced around, he knew it could only be the place that she had described. Her home, the Vale. The grass, soft under his feet was a purer shade than any he'd seen in so long. Small animals scampered about; oblivious to any threat he might pose. The sky was cloudless and went on forever it seemed. He could even feel the warmth of sunlight pouring over him. Without conscious thought, it seemed that he moved closer, eagerly to a thicket of trees. But the closer he got, the more stunned he was to realize that it was simply one tree. One tree that far outstripped those of Caras Galadhon, the most beloved trees of Middle Earth. Soon, in his mind, he'd reached the tree, absently noting the hundreds of birds seeming to perch and wheel around the welcoming piece of nature.

Legolas reached out in the vision and hesitantly, reverently placed his hands on the trunk of the humungous tree. He gasped softly as the tree immediately connected with him, offering peace beyond any he'd known. It calmed the fear, torment, and pain in him. Whispered to him of secrets unknown to mortal beings. Spoke to him of a time unknown that the tree endured. He understood now, why this tree, this Vale was Beldaran's sanctuary.

Softly, the vision began to fade, but Legolas made no outcry against that. For the feelings stayed with him. The love and understanding that came from the tree raced through his mind. His yearning for clear air was not denied as he simply thought of the memory and it eased over him. He looked down in awe at the woman who'd gifted him with so precious a treasure, his love for her magnified by the emotion that he knew the tree bore for her. It was a force that would not be denied, no matter the odds against it.

Legolas leaned down and touched a kiss to her forehead. It was a gesture of love, gratitude and understanding. "Thank you," was all he could say.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Eleven

When Legolas and Beldaran finally caught up with the others, they'd just entered the Dwarf City of Dwarrowdwelf. There was awe in everyone's voice, even the Elf's. The sheer magnitude of the architecture was enough to take anyone's breath away. Gandalf continued to lead them on, but slower now as everyone turned to take in the complexity of the place. Gimli was most excited, naturally. He'd long wished to visit his kinsmen here and though they were initially met by disappointment, he held out a small hope that they might find some other dwarves, hidden away, fighting until the last breath. He glanced to his right, seeking out those possible hiding spots when he noticed something odd.

There was light when there should not have been. Gandalf's light was to the left of him. He followed the path back to its source and noticed that high above; part of the mountain had been burrowed through, letting in sunlight. He looked back to where it led; recognizing at once the room the errant beam of light was illuminating. A short denial tore from his mouth as he raced to the room. The others called out for him, but he paid them no heed. He had to be sure.

The others followed the Dwarf swiftly, not wanting to become separated. They gathered in the room behind Gimli as he fell to his knees before a tomb, moaning at the sight of it. Gandalf made his way to the tomb, absently taking in the sight of the Dwarven corpses. Gandalf leaned over the tomb and read the carefully etched runes there. "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then," he sighed as Gimli cried noisily. He swept his hat from his head in a gesture of respect. "It is as I feared." He handed the hat and his staff to the nearby Pippin, then turned to remove a large tome from the skeleton by the sarcophagus. He opened it carefully, although some age worn pages fell out. He blew of some dust, then glanced over the entry date.

The rest of the company milled about nervously, not wanting to disturb Gimli's grief, but not comfortable at staying. A point that Legolas made quietly to Aragorn. The Ranger simply nodded his agreement. He knew that they wouldn't be able to budge Gandalf until the wizard learned what he could.

"'They have taken the bridge and the second hall'," Gandalf intoned, reading aloud from the book. "'We have barred the gates, but can not hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums in the deep'." He turned the page. The last entry. "'We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark'." Beldaran couldn't control the shiver that ran through her as she remembered the dream demon she had seen. "'We cannot get out. They are coming'."

Everyone looked up at the startling noise crashed through the room, only to see a very guilty looking Pippin near an inner well, a headless corpse perched atop. They understood immediately as the skeleton crumbled in on itself and followed it's hapless head, finally pulling the chain and bucket with it. They all cringed until the last echo died away. There was a moment's breathless silence as the fellowship waited. But nothing more came. Gandalf slammed the book shut and set it on the tomb.

"Fool of a Took!" he snarled. "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity!" Gandalf snatched his hat and staff from the trembling Hobbit. Pippin looked close to tears. As Gandalf began to turn away, a low thrum was heard. The words on the page were coming true. They heard the very same drums. As they all glanced around, Sam noticed immediately, Frodo's sword and drew everyone's attention to it.

"Orcs!" Legolas spat. Boromir ran to the door to check and see how close they might be and nearly had his head taken off by some arrows. He whipped back around, resigned to battle. He took in the others.

"They have a cave troll," he muttered to no one in particular. Aragorn shouted instructions to the Hobbits as Gandalf took up position in front of them. Together, Aragorn and Boromir shut the doors as best they could while Legolas tossed them some discarded Dwarven axes to bar them with. Gimli, relieved for the chance to avenge his kin, had jumped up on his cousin's tomb, growling out threats as he psyched himself for battle.

They waited tensely for what seemed forever, but were more like minutes. Legolas and Aragorn used their bows first, but the Orcs came through the double doors in a mass too large for the arrows to be effective long. And once the first wave was trough, the battle was joined. Beldaran had drawn her sword like Boromir and was standing slightly behind the others. As Orcs screeched at them, she instantly shut off the part of her mind that detested what she was forced to do. It was kill or be killed and she loved life. The blue flame that licked along her sword seemed to have great effect scaring the evil creatures, as it was an instrument of light. And many Orcs fell beneath her onslaught.

She noticed the Cave troll as it came in, but after one glance, decide she'd better stay back. She had little experience with battling large creatures and was not sure if her sword would penetrate far into the troll'' seemingly tough hide. So she kept slaughtering Orcs that came her way. She reached out her senses and became attuned to what was going on around her by hearing and sixth sense, knowing when to duck, who was hurt and who might need her help. Many had narrow escapes, mostly by luck alone. But then she sensed Legolas up on a high ledge, using his daggers to great skill, but as he spun around to meet another foe, he did not notice how close the troll was.

'_Legolas! Duck!' _her thought screamed to him. He did so automatically, not realizing that the voice was only in his head. He felt the whistle of air as the chain the troll wielded sailed mere inches above him. It snapped into the surrounding wall, breaking off pieces. He watched carefully, anticipating the troll's next move. Beldaran glanced quickly at him, taking in the situation._ 'Try to get the chain. Lock him down if you can.' _Legolas gave a small nod as he ducked again. The beast tried a new tactic and whipped the chain in an ark with a great overhand swing. It took a great piece out of the ledge. Legolas saw his chance then. The chain had slipped in the troll's fingers and when it tried to snap it again, the chain wrapped itself around a post. Legolas caught the links with a boot so the troll couldn't pull them loose. Then with Elven agility, ran up the chain to stand on the troll's shoulders. He fired an arrow into its head at close range, causing it to bellow and thrash around. Legolas jumped off, avoiding the thing's grasping hands.

The troll, having sighted new quarry lumbered off in the direction of Hobbits, sensing them to be easier prey. Legolas flashed a grin at Beldaran and they fought again, the creatures still around them. Bel barely took in what happened next, as it seemed to happen so quickly. Frodo was separated from Merry and pippin and the troll centered on him. It was smarter than anyone gave it credit. It knew that Frodo was hiding and eventually trapped him. Luckily, Aragorn stopped the advance with a spear thrust into the troll's chest. But that did not slow it down as it swept Aragorn aside with such force, knocking the man out. It yanked the spear from its chest and made use of it, stabbing it heavily into Frodo.

Beldaran heard the yells and saw Frodo fall. She stretched out further with her senses and a comforting sound rushed in her ears. She kept fighting, never wavering from her duty. Merry and Pippin jumped form the ledge, onto the troll's back. And finally, she slew her last Orc and was able to join the others as they took on the troll. The troll had reached up and grabbed Merry off it's back as Pippin continued to stab ineffectually with his short sword. Gimli swiped at the monster's flank with his axe and darted out of the way. Gandalf took a turn and danced nimbly out of the way. As the troll swung around, Beldaran cut into it's arm, the bite of the Rivan sword cutting much worse than the others and it dropped Merry. Gimli cut it again and it swung around, knocking the dwarf down. Legolas had his bow ready, waiting to pick his moment. And finally, Pippin's sword hurt enough to make the troll rear up. The Elf's arrow sliced cleanly into the troll's throat. It reeled for a moment, looking about itself dumbly, before finally collapsing.

Aragorn had thankfully awoken and was crawling towards the still Frodo as the others gathered around. Legolas reached out his hand and felt relieved when Bel slipped hers into it. He still held his bow in the other hand and he grasped it tensely. He glanced down at the redhead, not caring about the problems between them, only seeking comfort in this moment. He was surprised to see that she was glancing towards Frodo, a soft, secret smile on her face. He looked back to see Aragorn rolling the body over. Sam jerked, as if seeing a ghost then darted froward.

"He's alive!" the joy was evident in the faithful Hobbit's voice. Frodo gasped and pushed himself to sit up.

"I'm all right," he assured them all, though he was lightly holding his left side, where the spear had hit. "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead!" Aragorn scoffed in disbelief and relief. "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

"I think there's more to this Hobbit than meets the eye," Gandalf grinned wisely as he leaned against a pillar. Silently, glancing about him, Frodo unbuttoned his shirt, showing the other gift Bilbo had made him. A mithril mail shirt. There were gasps all around but for two. Frodo, of course and Bel.

Legolas glanced down at her again. "You knew, didn't you?" he asked, somewhat accusingly. She glanced out of him and pulled her hand from his grasp. He immediately regretted the harsh words. She had told him from the start that there were things she would just know. And now he had made her hurt again with his mistrust.

"Yes," she answered softly. She turned away to survey the remains of the slaughter as the others continued to comment on Frodo and his luck. The sound of more Orcs cut that short.

Gandalf whirled around. "To the bridge of Khazad-dum!" he ordered. The company fled the enclosed room, not wanting a repeat magnified by thousands of what they had just done. They ran for what seemed forever, Gandalf urging them on. As they ran, they could see Orcs emerging from every nook, cranny and broken wall and floor that they could. The company continued to run, trying to close up formation so that again they wouldn't be separated. But finally the Orcs began to converge on them.

"Shield!" Beldaran yelled. The others mistook her word and drew their weapons, which they would have done without command. But as the creatures encircled them, they found that the Orcs could only get so close. Their sneering, pig-like faces lunged at them, only to be repelled by some invisible wall. Beldaran held her hands before her, taxing her strength by holding against so many. Gimli growled menacingly.

A soft roar, back the way they'd come from caught everyone's attention. Even the Orcs. A light shimmered, filling the great hall at the other end. It scared the Orcs so badly that they scrambled back the way they came. Gimli preened as they ran away, as only Dwarves can do. Beldaran twisted around, her eyes going wide as she and the others beheld the new threat.

"Oh no, please no," she whispered. "Not this." The others caught her words, wondering how she knew already that the others; not even Legolas could make out.

"What new devilry is this?" Boromir demanded shakily. Beldaran whispered a word, releasing the shield so that they could move on. Gandalf bent his head, grimacing.

"A balrog," he said slowly. Legolas recognized the name and flinched. "A demon of the ancient world." He glanced up again. "This foe is beyond any of you." He turned swiftly and lunged forward once more. "Run!"


	12. Chapter 12

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Twelve

The group ran as swiftly as their tiring bodies could carry them. The warriors were careful to keep the littler members of the group in the center. Gandalf finally reached the doors, his knees trembling with more than exhaustion. The clamoring thoughts in his head refused to be silent. Mostly there was the need to protect Frodo. The Balrog could not take him, under any circumstances. As he ushered the Fellowship through the door that led to the staircase and the bridge, he never noticed that Boromir nearly fell in their headlong rush. It was only Legolas' quick Elven reflexes that jerked the man back. Aragorn paused at Gandalf's side as the Wizard slumped against the stone doorway.

"Gandalf?" he hissed, concern evident in his voice as he took in the other's almost defeated countenance.

"Lead them on Aragorn," Gandalf instructed. He nodded towards the bridge, in the distance. "The bridge is near." Aragorn glanced once at it then turned to help his old friend, but Gandalf pushed him away roughly. "Do as I say! Swords are no more use here." To Aragorn's relief, he hauled himself forward as the Fellowship ran down the stone steps, careful to note their twisting features, lest someone else should fall.

Unfortunately for them, there was a break in the steps. Legolas barely thought about it, automatically jumping the distance with ease. He turned back to the others. Bel followed him quickly and he caught her gratefully. She hurried out of his tight grasp to make room for the others.

"Gandalf," the Elf called, waving his arm in encouragement. The Wizard jumped across and turned about to help the others make their way. Naturally, jumping the span wasn't their only problem as Orcs emerged from their little hiding places and began shooting arrows at them.

"Shield!" Bel yelped again just as Aragorn and Legolas began returning fire. There was a small difference this time. It seemed that their arrows could penetrate the barrier she'd constructed, while the Orc arrows could not get in. She moved further down the steps as she heard Boromir give a yell and with Pippin under one arm and Merry under the other, he leapt across. The weight though, of the three of them caused the steps to break away even more. She barely caught Aragorn tossing Sam towards them as she concentrated on the barrier. She needed to extend it back to cover the last of the party, and forward as the others moved out of the jumper's way.

She heard Gimli give a yell and felt a prickle of fear. She whipped her head to the left in time to see Legolas yank the dwarf forward by his beard, saving the stubborn one's life. The steps under Aragorn and Frodo crumbled even more and with enviable speed, Aragorn threw the Hobbit up higher, then leapt aside as the steps crumbled under his very feet and fell away. He hauled himself up to the questionable safety. The chasm was wider than ever and he knew that he'd have a difficult time jumping safely with Frodo. Just then, the Balrog reminded them of its presence, as it's inexorable march caused mayhem with the crumbling structure. A falling piece of stone crashed through the steps above Aragorn and Frodo, upsetting the precarious perch they had.

Beldaran split her focus, trying in vain to steady the chunk of rock her friend's were now on. Aragorn had a hold on Frodo and they were desperately trying to balance themselves while not upsetting the stone greatly. _'I've got you Aragorn!'_ her thought screamed to him. _'Lean forward!' _She knew that he had heard when he repeated it to Frodo. They did as bade and the stone fell forward, finally connecting with the rest of the steps and they were able to jump the slight distance where ragged stone met. The broken step shuddered once then fell away. The company didn't care as they continued to race down the steps. Beldaran was gasping by now as she tried to change the angle of her shield to accommodate the twists and turns they made.

They finally reached the plateau where the bridge was. Again, Gandalf ushered them over. Boromir took the lead ahead of the Hobbits. "Over the bridge," Gandalf yelled unnecessarily. Flames began to erupt behind them. "Fly!" After everyone had passed him, he watched as the Balrog emerged from the flames. The thing roared at him, and resigned, Gandalf turned to run after the Fellowship. He knew that the thing would not stop following them, and that it would catch them quickly. He saw that his comrades had made it over the bridge and knew that at last his time had come. He stopped and spun around on the bridge. The others stopped as well; fear and terror striking deeply within their hearts as the demon centered its attention on the Wizard.

"You cannot pass!" Gandalf thundered.

"Gandalf?" Frodo yelled. He shrank back a little as flame erupted once more from the Balrog.

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the flame of Anor," Gandalf warned. He held his staff before him, the crystal shining pure and bright in defiance of the darkness. He knew instinctively what was coming. "The dark flame will not avail you, flame of Udun!" Regardless, the Balrog drew back its flaming sword as Gandalf readied Glamdring. The Balrog swung overhand and Gandalf defended with his own sword. Glamdring withstood and the Balrog's sword snapped and fell away, deep into the dark chasm under the bridge. Aragorn broke away from them and took a few worried steps to his old friend.

Gandalf crossed his sword and staff, a ward against the demon. It roared its frustration at the Wizard. "Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf commanded. The Balrog stepped forth onto the bridge as it shuddered from the immeasurable weight of the evil upon it. The demon drew forth a flaming whip, brandishing it menacingly. Beldaran watched as her nightmare came true. She wrestled her conflicted mind for a moment. She knew what would come to pass, but she could not help her friend. She had to protect Frodo and the others. She was still holding the shield and she knew she could not release it to go to Gandalf's aide. She didn't know if she could do anything against it. She had no idea if the demon would even react to the Orb on her sword as others had. So she could only watch and wait for the inevitable.

"You shall not pass!" Gandalf thundered as he brought up sword and staff together, then slamming the staff to the floor of the bridge. A blast of pure white light burst from the staff, causing the Balrog to flinch away. It brandished its whip again, cracking it high above the Wizard's head and stepped forward once more. But Gandalf's last spell worked and the bridge crumbled beneath the demon. The Balrog fell as it crumbled beneath. Gandalf turned, exhausted, but determined. A sigh of relief went through the Fellowship as they saw this, but it turned once more to terror as the Balrog's dreaded flaming whip emerged from the chasm to wrap itself around Gandalf's legs. He lost his grip on his weapons as he was yanked to the edge of the bridge. He struggled to hang on.

Frodo raced forward, only to be held back by Boromir, the man yelling denial, whether at Gandalf's imminent fall or at the little Hobbit, was unknown. Frodo called for his friend, shock and disbelief in his face. It wasn't right that Gandalf would triumph in one moment, just to be ripped away from them in the next. The Wizard struggled for a moment, but his hands could find no better purchase and he took in the face of his dumbstruck companions once more.

"Fly you fools!" he whispered harshly. And then he was gone. Frodo screamed again and tried to go, but Boromir's strong arms caught him up. Bel shut her eyes, her strength failing momentarily as numbness surrounded her heart. She felt someone tug on her arm and looked up to see Legolas yanking her towards the stairs of their escape. Boromir was already a ways up them, the struggling Hobbit crying out for his friend.

"Aragorn!" Boromir yelled, shaking the Ranger out of his stupor. He realized his new duty in that moment. It was now his responsibility to protect the Fellowship and lead them on. The grieving Ranger knew that the time to mourn would be later. Right now they had to concentrate on escape, for though the Balrog was gone, the Orcs were still after them. As he rounded a corner and glanced back, he saw one arrow coming perilously close and as he ducked he realized that Bel was so stricken, she'd dropped her defensive shield. His mind registered little things as he ran, almost feeling two separate people. Strider the Ranger dedicated to the mission. And Aragorn, the hurt friend, wondering how this tragedy had come about. And all either man could do was run.

Finally the company stumbled out of the mountainside, into the cooling relief of fresh air. But it was no balm on their wounded spirits. Aragorn was the last to come out, guarding their rear as he'd been taught. He took in the sight before him. Sam was sitting by himself, crying desolately. Boromir was holding Gimli back, the Dwarf cursing himself for even suggesting going through Moria, vowing revenge on all the Orcs there. Merry and Pippin were together. Poor Pippin lying on the ground, unseeing from the tears clouding his eyes. Legolas had his arms wrapped around Beldaran as they both stared off, uncomprehending of this turn of events. He looked worriedly, but Frodo was there, but distanced from the group. Resolutely, he turned off his own grief. He knew that they needed to find shelter now. He absentmindedly wiped off his sword. The rote measure something ingrained in him. Never sheath a dirty weapon.

"Legolas!" he called. "Get them up!" Legolas stared at him for a moment, then released the woman and moved to Merry and Pippin. Boromir rounded on the other Man.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake," he was shocked at Aragorn's callousness. Aragorn gestured back at the mountain they'd just emerged from.

"By nightfall, these hills will be swarming with Orcs," he hissed, not caring what the others thought of him at that moment. Their safety was foremost in his mind now. "We must reach the woods of Lothlorien," he instructed as he sheathed his sword. "Come Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, get them up!" He stalked over to Sam and surprisingly pulled the Hobbit to his feet gently by the lapels of his coat. His voice was soft. "On your feet Sam." He did have some compassion after all. He patted the Hobbits shoulder, letting him know that he too grieved, but now was not the time. He turned then, "Frodo?" He took a few steps, not sure if the Halfling had heard him. "Frodo?" he called louder this time. The poor Hobbit turned to face him slowly. A look passed between them and slowly, the group began to move again.


	13. Chapter 13

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding's "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter Thirteen

They ran. Aragorn set a punishing pace for them. As they ran, consciousness began to seep back in. Although thoughts of Gandalf's last moments still played through their minds, their self-preservation was activated. Aragorn had been right. They needed to reach the safety of the Elven forests. The shifting pattern of their running was taking a toll on them. The fight in the tomb, then Gandalf and now the differing terrain were catching up to them. Aragorn noticed this and decided that as soon as they reached the small river that they needed to cross, he'd allow a small break. For water at least.

He was upon the water soon enough, the others following dutifully behind him. He carefully scanned the horizon, searching. Danger was there, all around them, but ahead, the peace of Lothlorien. He made no acknowledgement when the rest of the company caught up to him. He silently gestured to the fresh water and the Hobbit's collapsed at the edge, gratefully filling their stomachs with the needed refreshment. No one spoke. For to speak would begin the recriminations and grief and it wasn't yet the time.

Bel did not notice as everyone else stopped. She'd finally swung her body into an even rhythm of left foot, right foot, then left again. Her eyes were slightly glazed over as she concentrated on some inner voice. Something that the others had not been aware of. But they were aware now as her path took her directly into the waters of the river. They all knew they had to cross the river, but they were surprised when even she did not stop to drink and rest. Aragorn took a few steps after her, stopping her with a hand on her arm.

"Beldaran?" he called softly, when she finally stopped walking. He swung her around, taking in the dead look on her face. She stared, unseeing at his chest. He reached up and drew a gentle finger across her cheek, wondering how she could feel so cold when they'd been running for so long. "Beldaran?" he spoke again, a little louder. Slowly she drew her eyes up to his. Tears shimmered in her eyes. "Little one," he groaned, believing himself to understand her pain. "You must put your grief aside for now. When we reach safety will be time enough to grieve."

"I will grieve when it is the proper time," Bel assured him solemnly. But the pain in her eyes only deepened. Aragorn stared intently at her.

"There is something more going on, isn't there?" he demanded suddenly. Bel dropped her eyes and turned her head, but he saw the tears anyway. He grasped her chin and forced her face back to his. "Isn't there?"

"Leave it alone Aragorn," she whispered harshly.

"What is it Bel?" he demanded. "Is it Saruman? Or another threat?"

"No," she denied evenly. She watched him for a long moment, absently noting how the rest of the Fellowship was shifting about uncomfortably as they watched the silent struggle between the two. Bel finally looked down at the water they were standing in. _'Did you know that I can hear your heart?'_ she threw silently at him. He stiffened for a moment, both at the sudden intrusion and the startling revelation. He thought for a moment, gasping as realization hit him.

'_Could you hear Gandalf's?'_ he demanded in his mind. She nodded slowly.

'_Even if he were on the other side of the world, I would hear it.'_

Aragorn peered closely at her, trying to understand how this was affecting her. He closed his eyes, as he finally understood. _'You can still hear him?'_ He didn't know what answer he wanted to hear from her. If Gandalf were still alive, there was hope. But there really wasn't hope. There was just waiting. And the strain of it was taking too heavy of a toll on the fragile woman.

'_It is not the fall that kills, Aragorn, it's the landing.'_ With that final thought, she turned and waded through the water. Aragorn watched her for a moment, finally realizing the sacrifices she was making. She was not here to achieve the destruction of the Ring. She wasn't here to battle Sauron, Saruman or whatever else the world would throw at them. She was here to battle the darkness brought by pain, fear, desolation and loss. But no one, not one of them could comfort her as she had them. So he did the only thing he could do, lead.

The group entered the woods of Lothlorien, some of them actually aware enough of their surroundings to take in the serene air of peace and beauty around them. As the lone Elf in the group, Legolas had heard the trees calling to him for some time, and though as saddened as the rest of the group, was looking forward to seeing the ancestral home of the Elves. Even as he watched for signs of danger, he took in the magnificence of the vast forest. Leaves fell idly to the moss carpeted ground. A natural occurrence, but a sad reminder that time was drawing to an end for the enchantments on this place. It was a heaviness that weighed on the Elf like many other things this journey had forced him to contemplate.

Aragorn slowed their pace to a walk. He knew that the Elves would have patrols out, set to watch and guard against evil. So there was no threat to them from that side, yet. The fellowship walked, strung out in a line, spacing the warriors around the Hobbits. Aragorn had kept Bel close, not worrying about what any of the others might think. He was worried about her. The threat of Saruman, the strain of keeping their spirits up, Gandalf's seeming death, it was more than he thought she should have to bear. And he watched her, looking for, and hoping against, signs of an immediate break down.

Gimli's voice drifted to him as his eyes swept around the forest once again. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. He would have warned the others, but Gimli was already talking. "Stay close young Hobbits," he warned in a Dwarf's whisper, which was a normal voice for others. "They say a great sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch…of terrible power. All who look upon her fall under her spell." Aragorn turned back at this, noting the satisfaction on the Dwarf's face as Frodo gasped and glanced around nervously. Gimli was enjoying scaring the Hobbit's a little too much. It seemed he couldn't resist exploiting their fears. "And are never seen again." The other Hobbit's gasped as well. They still hadn't gotten used to all of the Dwarf's ways as yet.

"Mr. Frodo?" Sam asked gently, wondering why his friend had stopped. Frodo glanced back at his friend silently, then continued forward, his nervous glance darting all about.

"Well," Gimli grunted, "here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox…oh!" his brag ended in a gasp as his eyes crossed to focus on an arrow tip pointed at him.

Aragorn barely had time to take in the suddenness of what he'd been expecting. He'd had to reach out and yank Bel to a stop before she impaled herself on an arrow. He noticed that Legolas had his bow and arrow pointed at the very Elf who would have unwittingly hurt her, but his friend's eyes were darting all around. Once he was sure that Bel was stopped, he slowly raised his hands in an age-old gesture of peace.

One of the Elves, his bow at his side, approached Aragorn. "The Dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark," he commented idly. Gimli growled at this taunt, but with a harsh look from his leader, fell silent. The new Elf glanced over the group, then jerked his head lightly. "Come along."

Aragorn fell in behind the leader of the Elven guard, as they were led to a certain tree. Ropes were thrown down and he bade the group climb up. Aragorn glanced back at the group, wondering how the Hobbits, Gimli and Bel would manage. But to his surprise, Bel simply pulled herself up, as if she'd been climbing ropes since she was a child. Gimli, silently raging, and with a determination to prove himself before the Elves, did the same. Even if it did take him a good fifteen minutes longer than the woman did.

When they were all assembled on the platform, where the Elven guard felt more secure, and lookouts were posted, the Elf took time to welcome the travelers. The group stood where they could as Aragorn and Legolas conversed with the Elf in his native tongue. But finally Gimli had enough, demanding that the Elf speak so they could all understand. The Elf did not respond kindly and Gimli said something in Dwarfish. A curse of sorts, by Aragorn's swift reaction. But the others were startled, just a little, when the Elf stared straight at Frodo.

"You bring great evil with you," he intoned solemnly. He turned once more to Aragorn. "You can go no further." The others turned to look at Frodo, as the poor Hobbit seemed to shrink in on himself.

An hour later, the Fellowship had all found seats as Aragorn argued with the Elf, Haldir. It was in Elfish, but they understood the nature of the argument. Frodo sat by himself, for her could feel the shame upon him. On the whole trip none but Gandalf had ever addressed plainly to him the evilness of the Ring. And now that he was gone, it was like a buffer had been removed, and his friends and companions were seeing him as if for the first time. And judging by the looks he was receiving, they didn't like what they saw.

"Gandalf's death wasn't in vain," Boromir's soft voice startled the Hobbit for a moment. He turned to look at the speculative man. "Nor would he want you to give up hope. You carry a heavy burden Frodo. Do not carry the weight of the dead." The words impacted on him heavily, and he noticed that Bel, sitting close by, also seemed affected. But he had no chance to reply as Haldir drew close.

"You will follow me," he instructed and turned away. The group rose and obeyed.


End file.
